Completely Hypothetical
by CherryBerri
Summary: Rick had a childhood friend called Myra Mortimer (Morty). She was there through all his years of growing up; through all the creation of his inventions- yet she vanished without a trace for thirty years. So, when she turns up at the Smith's place, out of the blue, Rick is sceptical and soon has to rehash mistakes of the past he has been so desperate to forget.
1. Chapter 1

Myra's silvery eyes watched the odd boy across the street, from her front lawn. She was sitting on the grass with her books and dolls; trying to pretend to read; just in case her mother caught her looking at the 'strange boy across the street' again.

He had a eccentric assortment of tools sprawled over his front driveway, his hands working frantically as he pulled a welding mask down over his face. Myra shielded her eyes as the blinding sparks began to flash as he started to meld the metal together. Sheer fascination tingled her skin as she watched him work; his eyes full of a frenzied obsession she had never seen on an adult, let alone a boy of her age.

Myra had moved to the neighbourhood a week before; her parents were wealthy, beyond reason, and had believed that it was within her best interest to attend the best school the county had to offer.

So, they had sold their large estate and moved to a rich, little suburbia, not too far from where her prestigious school was located; within walking distance- if they were ever so inclined to let her do something as ghastly and destitute as _walking_ anywhere. Especially when they had a pretentious car to show off to the citizens of their new town. Her parents absolutely _loved_ rubbing their wealth in everyone's face.

Myra shook her head at the thought, and glimpsed up at the boy again. The first time she had seen him, she had though he was a little peculiar. As she had watched him more and more; she had become utterly fascinated with his strange, bluish hair and slender frame as he created strange, little… things.

For she had no idea what to call them, other than that; _things_.

She had wondered what their purpose was; what their functionality could possibly be- and what drove this boy to want to build and create them out of garbage he had found. He was seemingly obsessed with creating things and Myra wanted to share in his passion for crafting.

She placed the book, she was holding in front of her face, aside. She stood up and gently brushed her floral blue dress off and started walking towards the path. Today was the day she would find out; she was going to ask him what he was doing. Myra glimpsed over her shoulder to her house; making sure her mother wasn't watching from the window before she set off towards the boy, making sure to watch out for traffic as she crossed the road.

Myra stepped up onto the sidewalk behind the boy and stood still, her eyes wandered over the little contraption he was tinkering with. He was hunched over as he tapped it on the pavement several times, as though to bump something into place.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

The boy jumped, clearly surprised by her sudden appearance.

"Fuck!" he cursed and glared at her in annoyance, "You should really wear a bell or something- y-you can't sneak up on a man when he's working on shit!"

"You _swore_!" Myra covered her mouth in shock, "You can't _swear_!"

"I can do whatever the _fuck_ I want." The boy grumbled, his face contorting in anger- his monobrow furrowing as he glared at her. "You're the new neighbour's kid?" He was frowning at her.

She nodded her head, "I am Myra Mortimer."

He pulled a disgusted face, "Y-your parents must hate you to name you something like _that_." He peered up at her with a realisation, "I-I know- I'll call you Morty; short for Mortimer…." He was grinning, "Yeah, I like the sound of that… Morty, Morty… _Mmmmmooooooorrrrttttyyy!" _

She frowned at him, "But my name is _Myra_." She was intrigued by his use of language, and by his slight stutter.

"D-don't be a dumbass,_ Morty_." He was grinning as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, leaving a trial of black grease. He stood up and gestured to the thing he held in his hand, "This is my newest invention, Morty!" He grinned, "I call it the Zapper."

Myra frowned at it, looking at the crude welding and wiring handiwork; it certainly looked like it would zap someone.

"That's interesting, I guess." Myra frowned, "You know; you are, kind of, a mean person."

The boy shrugged, "I don't give a shit. Wanna help me test this thing out?" He grinned eagerly as he held the little contraption towards her.

Myra shrugged, "Ok." It was curiosity that had killed the cat, after all.

He grinned at her, "My name is Rick, by the way. Rick Sanchez" He held out his hand and she shook it; albeit timidly.

Rick let go of her hand and suddenly pressed the Zapper against her shoulder; she felt a surge of electricity run through her body- setting her nerves aflame with agonising pain. She collapsed in a writhing heap as she lost control of her own appendages. Her body twitched uncontrollably and she let out a little yelp.

Rick laughed in delight, "Woah, it works!" He laughed maniacally.

Myra stopped writhing after several moments and burst into tears as she sat up, "Why did you do that to me?" she whimpered between sobs. She wiped her eyes, glaring at him, "You made me _cry_!"

Rick knelt down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "I-I'm sorry; but it was better you than me. I'll tell you what- you can give me a zap now, if it will make you feel better?" He held the zapper out in an open palm towards her with a smile.

Myra snatched it off him before he could change his mind and pressed the button as she thrust it against his arm.

Rick whimpered with a strange, involuntary noise and fell to the ground. His body jerked around as it had a fit, caused by the electric energy.

Myra grinned as she stood over him, suddenly delighted by the instant Karma she had dished out.

"I was _joking_!" Rick scowled after his body stopped jerking around, "But I-I guess that makes us even." He leapt to his feet and stared at her with a smirk, "You're kinda cool, I guess."

"Myra Alexis Mortimer!"

Myra's head whipped around as she stared at her furious mother across the road. She looked completely beside herself with anger; her hands were on her hips and her beautiful face was contorted in rage; turning redder by the second, "Get away from _that_ _boy_!"

"Oops; l-looks like you're in trouble, Morty. See ya around?" Rick snickered and grinned devilishly as Myra turned towards her mother.

"Maybe." Myra said in a low tone as she quickly hurried across the street. She buried her face behind a curtain of black hair as she scampered towards her angry mother.

Despite the fact he was extremely mean and rude, Myra had liked Rick from that day on. She became interested in science and becoming as smart as him; though that was impossible – there was _never_ going to be anyone as smart as Rick Sanchez.

Nothing would ever stop their misadventures; it was going to be 'Rick and Morty' forever. At least, that had been their original plan.

* * *

Myra's icy silver eyes traced the front door to the house in disbelief. It was so disgustingly and unbelievably _quaint_. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the notion.

When she had heard rumours, through the extensive grapevine, that the fabled Rick Sanchez had returned to a domestic life; she had nearly keeled over in a fit of laughter.

She had been adamant that there was a mistake; there was no way in hell Dianne's husband would ever, _willingly_, return to a family life. The mere thought was comedic on its own, let alone the fact that Myra had gone through the trouble of tracking down his daughter's address. She _had_ to see it with her own two eyes.

She pressed the doorbell with a single, bony finger and listened to the lacklustre chime as she paused in anticipation. From recollection, Dianne and Rick had a single daughter and two grandchildren. Their daughter was named Beth; that much Myra could remember- though the names of the two grandchildren had seemingly slipped her mind over the years.

A frown curved her mouth as the door opened, revealing a teenage girl with red hair and a fair complexion. She cocked an eyebrow as she looked Myra up and down; visibly judging the older woman before her.

"Hello?" The girl asked in a questioning tone, "Can I help you?"

Myra was baffled by the girl's confused tone. It almost sounded as if she had never had a normal interaction with a visitor before. Though, she didn't doubt that was exactly the reason for the girl's demeanour; _normal_ was not possible with Rick Sanchez in your life.

"Hello." Myra attempted to smile as she looked at the younger girl, "I would like to see your grandfather please; would you be a dear and go fetch him- tell him it's his childhood friend." Myra stepped inside, shoving past the girl to enter. The youth closed the door behind her.

She peered around the entrance, spotting a staircase to the right and a dining room to her left. Straight head she could just glimpse a loungeroom; everything looked tediously _normal_. It even _smelt_ homely and inviting; genuinely the last place she had ever pictured Rick living.

The girl frowned at her, her eyes were full of seething annoyance, "_Childhood_ friend?" She asked with a frown momentarily, before a sudden smirk began to curve her mouth, "You'd have to be what… _thirty_ years old?" The girl chortled to herself.

Myra resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the comment she had heard throughout her entire adult life, before she smirked back at the girl, "Just go fetch your grandfather; you can ask him the story."

The girl didn't budge from where she was standing, "GRANDPA RICK! THERE'S SOME STRANGE WOMAN HERE TO SEE YOU!" She shouted and Myra winced as her ears began to ring.

"Charming." Myra blinked and looked about, "I'm sure a foghorn would have done the trick nicely too." She heard a commotion to the left, past the dining room as a door burst open.

Even though it had been at least thirty years since Myra had last laid eyes on him; she could still see her childhood friend as she looked at Rick. He had aged surprisingly well; a little unbelievably well if Myra didn't know any better.

"W-what the hell are you yelling about, _Summer?_" Rick barked in irritation, before his eyes wandered to Myra. "Holy shit." He muttered, his expression going momentarily blank as he stared at her, almost in disbelief, "Y-you diabolical _bitch_!" he was grinning suddenly as he strode forward.

Myra's eyes briefly darted to a younger teenage boy in a yellow shirt, who had suddenly appeared behind Rick. He looked slightly anxious and jittery as he watched his grandfather.

"I thought you were _dead_!" Rick was laughing as he clapped Myra on the back roughly.

Myra grinned back at him, "Sorry to disappoint, but I am very much _alive_." She smirked.

"I had Beth name my _grandson_ af…after you!" Rick roared in laughter.

"_What_?" the boy was frowning suddenly.

"What?" Myra pitched in, "Surely she didn't name him _Myra?"_

"Don't be an id…iot, _Morty!"_ He belched; completely beside himself with laughter as he slapped her on the back again.

"What's going on here?" The teenage girl was frowning at them with an odd expression. She was looking back and forward between Rick and Myra.

Rick took a moment to compose himself, before he cleared his throat and gestured to Myra with a slight smile, "Summer, Morty; this is Myra Mortimer; we kind of…. Grew up together…. I guess?" He was shrugging suddenly as he looked at Myra with a questioning glance.

"That sounds adequate." She nodded dismissively.

"What- then how are you like _thirty_ years old?" Summer asked in disbelief.

"T-that was, umm, _my_ fault." Rick said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"You see, I went to college," Myra began.

"Like a complete sell-out." Rick interrupted bitterly.

"And studied theoretical sciences."

"_Because_ she's an _idiot_." Rick interrupted again, "long story short, I-I m…may or may not have tested a-a prototype of my portal gun on her and sh-she may or may not have be…been affected by said test, in a biophysical manner."

"Meaning that his prototype gun was more of an 'anti-aging' gun, than a device that would tear holes through space and time." Myra interjected and glared at Rick.

"I also got her _kicked_ out of college." Rick grinned, "H-how awesome is that."

"You _BLEW_ up the laboratory!" Myra grumbled and folded her arms across her chest irritably.

"Oh my _god_… so she is actually someone who knows… like, pretty much _everything_ about you?" Summer was grinning suddenly, "Give us some dirt!"

"Yeah, y-y-you must have a million _humiliating_ things y-you could tell us about Rick!" Morty chimed in.

Myra smirked darkly as she glanced a suddenly nervous-looking Rick.

"Bad idea." He frowned, "Seriously; you ev…even think about it I-I-I will cut you."

Myra grinned at him, "I think we both know that is physically impossible."

Rick frowned and brushed past her into the dining room, stepping through into the garage "W-why did you come to my lame-ass daughter's h…home anyway?" He belched, cutting in before she could say anything further.

Myra shrugged and followed, peering around the eerily homely house with little interest. She stared about the garage, where he had stored a bunch of his science junk. This was slightly more like what she had been expecting. She didn't doubt he had built some sort of lair underneath the house as well.

"I heard whispers that you had returned to play _grandfather_." She said dismissively, glancing over her shoulder as Summer and Morty appeared behind her.

"You two dipshits go play elsewhere." Rick frowned at them, "Let _Morty_ and I catch up."

"But grandpa Rick this is the first time we've me…" Summer was cut off as a large bubble suddenly enveloped her and her brother. Rick pressed the button to open the garage door and they floated away.

"Maybe you should call me Myra; you know to save the confusion?" She suggested as Rick pressed the button again to close the garage door.

Rick frowned, "Yeah, whatever; in all serious…ness _what_ are you doing here?"

"Do I need reasons to want to visit someone I once considered my best friend?" Myra frowned, "I'm sorry for wanting to reconnect, after all this time."

Rick glared at her, "T-that's why it's so suspicious; it's been _decades_." He whirled around towards his workbench, suddenly angry as he reached inside his coat pocket and withdrew a flask. He took a swig, "Surely you and _Roberto_ have built quite the life together." The name seemed to roll out of his mouth like a bad taste.

"Rob and I never became a thing. I'm not currently married, nor have I been; and I certainly have no intention to…. _ever_." Myra frowned, "But I _do_ have a son."

"Must be nice." Rick muttered bitterly, turning his back completely to her as he knelt down to rummage through his cupboards.

Myra reached inside her jacket pocket and snatched something out. She placed it on the workbench, "I also came to give you this back." She said, glimpsing down at the portal gun he had given her decades before. "I used it quite extensively before I had my son." She shrugged "I thought you might want it back."

Rick peered at it from where he was crouched and then turned back to the cupboards with a frown, "I-it was a gift- you should keep it." He pulled something out of the cupboard and grinned, "I _knew_ I-I still had this th…thing somewhere." He burped and lifted it into the air to show her, "Remember this thing?"

Myra stared at the contraption in disbelief, "Graduation day; you made all the popular kids burst out into disco moves." She remembered fondly "those assholes certainly had it coming." She smiled at Rick, "Why'd you keep that thing?"

Rick shrugged, "My little mem…memento of being kicked out of school." He smirked and pulled an entire box out of the cupboard, "I kept a crapload of those early inventions."

Her eyes ran over the inventions within the box, each new item bought a surge of a memory forward. She smiled, "those were certainly the days." She laughed, "you know, _before_ you knocked Dianne up."

Rick frowned, "Yeah." He stood up, appearing almost absent-minded as he glanced towards the door, "Hey sweetie, when did you get home?" His mouth curved into a pleasant smile.

Myra turned and saw an adult Beth smiling as she glanced back and forward between her father and Myra.

"About two minutes ago; heard you talking to someone." Beth said, her eyes narrowing towards Myra, "Wow, you look _really_ familiar."

"Well, she should; I-I mean she hasn't physically aged a single day since the last time you saw her; w-when you were about…eight?" Rick shrugged, "But for reintroductions, Beth this is Myra, Myra – Beth."

"So, I _do_ know you?" Beth asked, with a confused smile.

"Yes, I used to visit all the time, when you were a child." Myra smiled pleasantly. She was slightly taken-aback by her striking resemblance to her mother, "You've grown into a beautiful woman."

Beth chuckled slightly, "Why thank you." She said, lapping the compliment up, "You're not so bad yourself."

"C-careful sweetie; Myra takes compliments extremely s…seriously. She came from a wealthy family where praise and approval was far and in-between."

Beth shot Myra a slightly shocked glance.

Myra shrugged, "He's not wrong."

"But still… Dad you shouldn't speak about a long-time friend like that; especially while they are standing right next to you." Beth frowned at her father.

"We are far beyond the fake pleasantness," Myra shrugged, "We know we can be literal with each other."

Beth frowned and glanced back and forward, "So… you two have known each other a _REALLY_ long time, haven't you?"

"Since we were six." Rick shrugged.

Beth suddenly seemed to perk up more, "So, will you be staying with us?"

Myra glanced at Rick, "Actually I'm staying at a run-down motel, in town, for a week; I just wanted to drop by to catch-up with your father for a little bit before I return home."

Rick frowned at her, "You should stay here; I-I mean it'll be better than a shitty motel." He turned to Beth, "Th-that'll be ok, won't it sweetie?"

Beth was smiling, "It's perfectly fine, Dad." She smirked, "I'm certain that Myra has a lot of stories she can share."

Rick started to ignore her, "Hope you bought your shit with you." He said, glancing at Myra.

"My _shit_ is in the car out front." Myra nodded.

"L-let me help you with said shit, then." Rick said, still actively trying to ignore Beth who was staring at him, from the doorway, with a smug grin.

"Guess I will just go get things sorted in the kitchen then." Beth smirked as Rick pressed the button to open the garage door.

Rick was frowning as he walked Myra to the silver Benz she had rented, "I-I apologise in advance for my lame-ass family." He grumbled irritably.

Myra reached into her coat pocket and withdrew a set of keys with a shrug, "Honestly none of this is what I ever pictured for you; but its surprisingly… _interesting_, to say the least." She smiled, popping the car boot with the key button, "Certainly beats single-motherhood."

"Y-y-you were a single mother?" Rick frowned at her, "Geez, certainly thought you'd snag some pompous asshole along the way."

Myra snorted, "relationships were never my forte."

"I hear that." Rick smirked as he heaved her suitcase out of the boot. "So… a son?" Rick probed, "W-what kind o…of name did you give the poor bastard?"

Myra closed the boot and they headed back towards the garage. "Benedict, though he prefers Ben" She replied with a shrug.

"Poor, innocent, bastard." Rick shook his head with a smirk, "He didn't stand a chance."

Myra rolled her eyes, "You named your daughter _Beth_, of all things."

Rick laughed, "H-hey I had Dianne chewing my ass the whole time; y-you didn't have a guy telling you all your names were _lame_." He smirked, "t-there's no excusing your poor name-choices."

Myra snorted and muttered in a low, devious tone, "I snuck a '_dick'_ into his name!"

Rick shrugged and grinned wider, "I-it's kind of a long-shot, but I'll accept it!"

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

A child Myra was sitting beneath the shade of a tree in the front yard. The warmth of the July sun beamed down as she buried her face in yet another book. She wasn't supposed to be outside; she was in trouble.

Her mother wanted her to be confined to her room, though that wasn't punishment for Myra. It was far too nice a day to be indoors, so she had climbed out the window to come outside. Her mom would be furious, and no doubt prattle on about how 'ladies' didn't do such ghastly things; Myra could care less.

She wasn't interested in being her parent's societal puppet; she knew the only reason they had sent her to the prestigious school, was to rub elbows with other wealthy parents and kids. They wanted her to find a rich husband _already_; she hadn't even hit puberty.

A red ball suddenly landed next to her on the grass and she jumped, glancing around to see who had thrown it. There was no one around; though she suspected Rick was up to something.

"W-what you reading there, Morty?" Rick's voice chimed from behind the tree.

Myra resisted the urge to throw the ball at him, and she turned back to her book, pretending to read, "Go away- You've gotten me into enough trouble this week, Rick Sanchez."

Rick's laugh came in a pleasant thrum, "Because of t-the cat thing?"

"Because a '_lady'_ isn't supposed to be interested in the complexities of science." Myra muttered in a sarcastic tone, "Because I am clearly _far_ more suited to being a _housewife,_ than creating temporal fields and making our cat, Tingles, explode in my front yard."

Rick suddenly snorted, appearing from behind the tree, "Clearly my calculations were off, Morty."

Myra frowned at him, "Obviously." Her eyes went wide as she saw he was sporting a large new bruise on his cheek and eye, "what happened?"

Rick slumped down in the grass next to her, "My dad didn't appreciate the cat t-thing either." He was frowning and glaring at the ground. It wasn't the first time his father had hit him, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"One day we'll make something that… just opens a _door_ to a new world; or something." Myra frowned, resisting the urge to comfort Rick because she knew he'd hate it. "We'll just _leave_." She waved her arms about to emphasise her point.

Rick grinned devilishly at her, "Maybe you're right, Morty; maybe you're right."

* * *

"You've got to be _kidding_ me?" Beth and the rest of the Smith family were all seated around the dinner table; their faces shrouded in masks of disbelief.

Rick' face was full of a proud enthusiasm Myra had seen on middle-aged men, whenever they had bought an over-the top car during a midlife crisis. His happy expression dropped abruptly and was replaced with an agitated scowl, "What the _hell_ are you t…talking about?" he gestured towards Myra, "E-everything, right here, is the pinnacle of w…hy you should comply with _all_ of my ideas." He folded his arms across his chest suddenly; visibly defensive.

He had just finished giving them a small, dinner-time showcase of the inventions and experiments he had successfully performed on Myra, in their youth. He had appeared delighted as he reeled off a list of functions and benefits; momentarily pausing, at times, to show them her 'swiss-army fingers', superhuman strength and inability to sneeze.

"You _willingly_ let Rick do all of this to you?" Jerry's expression was full of concern, "I may not be very smart,"

"Understatement of the century." Rick cut in bitterly.

"But I, _certainly,_ would never let Rick a _control_ chip of any kind in me…" Jerry frowned.

Myra grimaced and folded her arms across her chest, feeling up-tight, "It's a phrase-activated neurological impairment chip," She muttered, correcting him, "_because_ I had extensive bouts of pubescent mood swings, which impaired our scientific work." Myra felt her mouth forming a thin line as she awkwardly avoided the Smith's suddenly critical eyes.

Rick abruptly snatched his steak knife from the table, "But look!" he said, suddenly ramming it into her back, with great force. The metal blade tore a hole through her jacket and blouse and then crumpled upon contact with her skin, "indestructible epidermis!" He grinned manically and glanced around at his family, expecting them to look amazed. They didn't appear to be impressed in the slightest.

"That was a freak accident, and I doubt you have been able to replicate the results. Also, you owe me a new jacket and shirt." Myra muttered in a low tone and shook her head, as though to clear it. She turned back to the meal before her, still avoiding eye-contact, "Most of my additional functions are still of considerable use." She attempted to sound dismissive.

"Y-y-you made mom name me…after _her_?" Morty was frowning with a slight shake of his head. "I-I really don't know how I feel about that, Rick."

"You must have a lot of faith in our grandpa." Summer shrugged, "and a _lot_ of embarrassing stories." She probed.

Myra grinned darkly, "Even better- I have _photos_."

Rick's eyes went wide suddenly, "What? No!" His voice crackled with a slight panic as she stood up and stared at her wildly.

Myra smirked at him darkly, and stood up, "I'm sure it's the least I could do for your daughter and grandchildren; after all this is _their_ house. I have all the old photos on a drive; we can look at them on the T.V."

Rick's eyes narrowed as he glared at Myra in agitation as the rest of the family climbed to their feet and eagerly began to clear the table.

"I'll make popcorn!" Summer chimed excitedly as she raced into the kitchen.

Rick continued to glare at Myra, his hands folded across his chest in annoyance as the family all chattered enthusiastically in the kitchen.

"I hope you're happy taking advantage of my inferior family status." He shook his head at her, "R-real prickish move."

Myra sneered at him, "don't get your dick in a twist."

Rick mumbled incoherently and sulked towards the lounge room.

Several moments later, the Smith family was all gathered around the television as Myra smugly grabbed the drive out of her suitcase. Rick was glaring at her, his arms folded tightly against his chest as she began to plug the drive into the television.

"I documented our old inventions and work extensively, throughout our youth. Much to my parent's disgust." Myra smiled, walking over to sit on the lounge's armrest next to Rick, the remote control in her hand.

The family's eyes were all glued to the TV as she flicked through photographs, briefly offering some context every once and a while. There were dozens of photographs of Rick and Myra when they were kids, with a huge variety of crude inventions. As they aged in the photographs, the inventions became more elaborate and intriguing.

Rick seemed to relax more and more with each passing photo; until he was offering old stories and laughing along with the rest of the family.

"Oh my god, you two went to the _prom_ together?" Summer asked, referring to the photo of them together in a suit and dress, which had suddenly flashed onto the screen.

Rick and Myra glanced at each other side-long, "Not exactly." They both muttered at the same time.

The next photo flashed onto the screen and they were both smiling with their respective dates. Rick's arm was slung around a beautiful blonde girl's neck and Myra was standing awkwardly next to a blotchy-looking boy with braces; sprouting an uncomfortable smile.

Rick laughed and shook his head as he pointed at the photograph, "I remember the day Bobby Fisher asked you to go with him… oh my god, what a _loser_!" he chortled, "He literally crapped his pants."

"At least I never went with Rebecca Carter." Myra shot back with a grin, "But we all knew what _your_ agenda for that night was." The next photograph flicked onto the screen of Rick groping his date as he flipped off the photographer with his tongue jutting out between his pointer and index fingers on his other hand.

Beth shook her head, "Ok, gross."

"Hey, didn't you want t-that big meat-head jock… what's his name… to ask y…you to the prom?" Rick asked, glancing at Myra briefly.

Myra pulled a disgusted face, "I abhorred that dim-wit." She scowled at him and glared at the TV screen as photographs from Prom flickered on and off the screen, "But I guess nothing turned out how anyone had intended that night," she chuckled slightly.

"Aww, but you two danced together!" Summer said gleefully from the floor, pointing to the photo on-screen.

It had been a slow-dance song; A Woman, A Lover, A Friend by Jackie Wilson. That was not too long after both of their dates had spontaneous departures from the prom. It had somehow been an awkwardly pleasant dance.

Myra quickly cleared her throat, and flicked through several more files before she clicked onto another one. It was her college photos, "Want to see some really old pictures of your grandmother?" she was grinning suddenly.

"Yes!" Morty and Summer chimed.

She enlarged the photo, "My wealthy parents bought my way into a sorority on the first day of college; your grandmother was accepted into it later, during the second semester." Myra smiled, pointing at the photograph on the screen, "We were roommates throughout my time in college."

"Aww…" Beth's face brightened as she smiled broadly, "did you become best-friends?"

Rick snorted, deep in the back of his throat and Beth shot him a quick, questioning glance.

Another photo flickered onto the screen. It was Bird person, Squanchy and Rick. Myra smiled, she had almost forgotten about this photograph.

"Is that an _alien_ strip club?" Jerry was frowning as he squinted at the scantily-clad aliens in the background, "did you _seriously_ go to a strip club with _Rick_?"

"It was Rick's Buck's night." Myra smirked side-long at Rick, "Perhaps the most devious and repulsive night any living being has ever witnessed."

Rick grinned devilishly at the memory, "D-Didn't y-you end up waking up with a job as a stripper for that joint?"

"So, you were friends with Bird Person and Squanchy too?" Beth asked, cutting her father off as she shot Myra a quick glance, "I don't recall seeing you at the wedding…"

There was a brief, awkward pause as Myra glanced at her in confusion.

"Ok, t-that's enough of this crap." Rick muttered, climbing to his feet. He strode over to the TV and removed the drive, without missing a beat. The screen went black.

"Wedding?" Myra looked around at the Smith family, her confusion was reflected on their faces, "Whose _wedding_?"

Rick let out an exasperated grumbling noise and then pointed towards the door, "ok, you guys get out." He muttered irritably, looking at his family members with an annoyed scowl. They didn't budge and he bared his teeth in frustration, "seriously; get the hell out."

They all left the room, slowly; throwing concerned glances towards Rick and Myra as they headed upstairs.

"Rick; what's going on?" Myra frowned, sensing that his irritation wasn't solely about someone getting married.

"Bird Person is dead." He said, rubbing his face in frustration, "his bride was an undercover galactic federal agent."

Myra felt a wave of nausea at the news. When she had left and severed all contact with the others, she had always thought she would see them all again; sometime in the future. Hearing that one of them was no longer alive, sent a stabbing blade of grief deep inside her.

She stared into empty space, "Squanchy?"

Rick shook his head, "I'm still not a h…hundred percent."

"Fuck." She muttered in disbelief.

There was a moment silence while they both stared into space.

"Well this is morbid." Rick muttered irritably, and attempted to smile, "Wanna go grab a drink?" He asked, his hand lifted his portal gun.

"Sure; only if you're buying- last time I went out drinking with you I had to take out a second mortgage." She smirked, still feeling the grip of sadness hanging over her as Rick shot open a portal.

Rick grinned deviously at her, "or we can just _not pay at all_."

* * *

Hours later, they were still at the alien bar Rick had portalled to. Both were exceptionally drunk, slurring thickly as they sat in a booth; still making attempts to catch up, while gently probing each other with questions. They both knew they were dancing around the serious issues from the past three decades and years prior; yet neither wanted to come out with their true queries – they would have to get _FAR_ more intoxicated.

"Beth turned out to be a pretty decent woman!" Myra slurred, feeling herself swaying in her seat slightly, "I mean, weren't you worried she was going to kill some of the neighbourhood kids, at one point?"

Rick laughed and dragged his hand down his face, "She fucking trapped one of t…them in Froopy Land, the psycho bitch." He shook his head.

Myra smiled, and threw back another shot, "I mean, at least she _has_ family. Ben's head is so far up his own ass; I'm sure he'd procreate with himself, if he could."

Rick grinned at her, "W…wouldn't we all?" He belched, leaning back in his booth chair, "B-but to be fair, sex w…with other people i-is far more enjoyable."

Myra nodded dismissively and glanced around the strange bar, inhaling the stale aroma of body odour, vomit and booze which permeated the air. Rick used to take her to alien bars all the time, when they were younger. It was odd that, even after all the years that had passed, she still enjoyed his company. It amazed and perplexed her, all at once.

"So, are y-you going to tell me where you were hiding, all t…these years?" Rick belched.

She turned to look at him again, noting how he slouched back in his chair, attempting to appear indifferent.

"I wasn't _hiding_." She slurred, feeling irritable as the lie came out, "I was _avoiding_."

"Same dif….ference." Rick burped and wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm. He gulped down another drink and stared at her with a critical glare. He was still trying to read her.

Myra frowned at him, "You wanted to try and make things work with Dianna. I was clearly obstructing any chance of your marriage working." She was surprised at how bitter the words came out. "She loathed me, Rick; I did it for the both of you." She was feeling oddly emotional; the alcohol was clearly affecting her.

Rick stared down at the table, "Obviously didn't work."

"Clearly not." Myra added, "But at least you have family; Beth and your grandkids seem ok – Jerry… is… well, fuck that guy." She muttered. There was no denying the fact that Jerry was an irritating coward of an imbecile; she wouldn't try to polish that turd.

"Ugh and I got rid of him too!" Rick dragged his hands down his face in frustration, "T-they were getting a _divorce_!"

"Hey two-legs!" An alien suddenly called out, seizing their attention.

It was a strange, scaled creature with four legs and a fin-like appendage on its coarse head. Myra could only think of a pineapple as she tried to focus her eyes on its strange face.

"You." The creature grinned, its eight, beady maroon eyes narrowed as it eyed her up-and-down.

"She's not interested." Rick muttered, throwing back another shot. He didn't so much as glance over at the alien.

"My friends and I are very interested in some alone time with you." The alien grinned, ignoring Rick as it stared at her, "We will pay rather well, considering you are so… exotic." It licked it's scaled lips as it continued to glance at her up and down.

Rick was suddenly on his feet, "L-look, sh-she's not interested in indulging y…your weird _fetishes."_

"We are a select group of males, whom enjoy the different types of females the galaxy has to offer." The alien continued, briefly giving Rick and annoyed glare.

Rick opened his mouth to say something, but Myra stood up and smirked at the alien, swaying on the spot. "Let me see if I have this correct." She smirked, "You would like me to go have some, weird-ass _gangbang_ with you and your horny little friends over there?" Myra gestured to the group of aliens who were all staring at her, "Do you even _know_ how to have sex with a female from earth?" She poked him in the chest, feeling annoyed, "Do you _know_ how to make her _enjoy_ intercourse, Mr Pineapple-head?"

Rick snorted, and stood up, "Ok, well this was fun, while it lasted." He gripped her arm, "T…time to go."

Myra yanked away from his grasp, "Shh, I want to hear what this guy has to offer." She scowled, "now, do you pay me _before, _or after?"

Rick frowned at her, "L-let's go; you're drunk."

"Hey, the lady wants to be shown a good time." The alien said, suddenly tugging on Myra's other arm.

Myra was suddenly furious. With one, swift motion, she whirled around and punched the creature in the face. He was sent flying into the group that had been watching her intently.

"Great…." Rick muttered irritably, as he reached inside his lab coat pocket for his portal gun. "I-I really liked this place, too."

He shot open a portal and shoved her through roughly. They appeared in the Smith's lounge room.

Myra glared at Rick, "You're such a wet blanket."

Rick frowned at her, "L-look, I'm not saying t-that you c….couldn't hold your own; because I made it so you _could." _ He huffed, swiftly striding over to the couch towards a pile of blankets Beth had left there. He started throwing them over the couch to make an improvised bed. "Y-You can't just go around _punching_ people in my favourite bars." He strode back over to her and started pushing her towards the couch.

She climbed beneath the blankets and laughed at him, "I apologise; I thought we were having _fun_."

Rick shook his head, "We _were_." He said in an annoyed tone, switching off the light as he headed to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry; about your marriage." Myra murmured.

She could hear Rick walking away, "Doesn't matter." He muttered.

As she stared into the darkness Myra began to wonder how long they would be able to avoid the real issue. She had initially only intended to stay a few days before she headed back home; though now she was wondering if they'd even _start_ to approach the situation before then.

She rolled over and closed her eyes with an exasperated huff. Everything could wait until she was sober; there was no harm in putting it off for one more night, was there?

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

Prom was the first instance that had begun to alter the dynamics of Myra's world completely.

The weeks had ticked by with a boorish normality and she had found herself eagerly awaiting _the_ question. It was the question all the girls were waiting for, either from the target of their infatuation, or from a boy whom they had _never_ pictured asking them to go to the prom.

It was quite the kerfuffle; girls would squeal with frantic delight whenever the boy they wanted, posed the question; likewise, they would turn their nose up at the poor boys they deemed inferior and send them slinking back to the sidelines. Myra watched everything unfold with sheer fascination; it was almost a primitive desire that seemed to drive both sexes and she was utterly intrigued by it all.

Being an elitist school, in the 60's, girls were grossly outnumbered by boys. Myra had been pleasantly avoiding all contact with boys she had suspected wanted to ask her to the prom; all the while waiting for the one person she assumed would _truly_ want to ask her, at any given moment. Though things were always going to be black and white with Rick.

She was walking through the hallways of the school with Rick, temporarily rolling her eyes as Katherine Mathers screamed with eagerness as Carl Michaels asked her to prom. As the school's popular 'power-couple' it truly came as no surprise; Myra wondered why it seemed to be a necessity for her to squeal so shrilly.

"Can y-you believe this shit?" Rick muttered irritably "W-who even _wants_ to go to prom?" He was frowning as he glared at Katherine and Carl screaming and jumping up and down in excitement.

Myra shrugged, "It's a rite of passage; a once in a lifetime deal." She found herself smirking as the words came out.

Rick made a disgusted noise, "Please tell me _you_ of all people aren't buying into t-t-this crap?"

Myra laughed, feeling sheepish suddenly, "Maybe I want to give into the idea of normalcy, for one evening." She shrugged, "Who knows; maybe it _won't_ be the end of the world."

Rick frowned at her, "Y-you've completely lost your mind." He was shaking his head, "Even if a guy i-is stupid enough to ask you; he's going to have high expectations for y-you to _put out_."

Myra's eyes went wide with shock, "What?!" She scowled, feeling the urge to throttle Rick, "No _decent_ boy would expect _sex_ at the end of prom!" she snapped in a low tone, feeling embarrassed someone would hear their conversation.

Rick shrugged and laughed at her, "H-hey all guys are sexual deviants, regardless of any _decency_. I-It's practically all we think about; I know girls probably are the same too- l-l-let's not take this to a sexist place, Morty. Y-you girls have been through a l-lot to fight for equality…" He sounded suddenly defensive, "I-if anything, for a-all I know, you females are even _more_ perverted than guys, Morty."

Myra frowned at him, "Where did you hear that thing; about the guys expecting girls to put out?" She said, dismissing his rambling.

Rick shrugged, "I hear them talking about it all the time. I-i-it's literally all they have been talking about since the date for prom was announced." He glared irritably as another girl squealed nearby, "I-it's all about '_peace and love'_; Am I right?" He said in a sarcastic tone.

Myra shrugged, "You're not wrong, but you're also not _right."_ She found herself frowning, "If some guy asks me to the prom, will he _really_ expect me to throw my legs up in the air?"

Rick chuckled at her, "T-that's quite the mental image. Make sure to take photos for me."

Myra frowned at him as they reached the front of the school, feeling her chance of going to the prom with him slipping away. Rick didn't want to go to the prom; he certainly didn't seem to have any intention of asking her. She expected him to; they were best friends. She couldn't tolerate the idea of another guy _asking_ her, let alone _actually going_ to prom with them.

Rick glanced over his shoulder at her as he reached the stairs, "You coming?" He frowned, "Y-you're, kind of, my ride home." He cocked his monobrow at her curiously, and Myra noticed she had stopped in her tracks.

Myra frowned and stepped past him, "Fine." She muttered, resisting the urge to push him down the stairs. He may have been the smartest person in the world; but sometimes he was so _stupid_.

Myra had been asked by three boys to go to the prom. Three times she had politely, and irritably declined respectable dates; until the week before prom finally rolled around.

She was reading in the shade of a tree in the school yard; she loved the solitude and had been treating Rick with cold indifference increasingly as the days past. Rick seemed to take it as a que to give her space and had made himself scarce.

"Hey… Myra?" Bobby sounded jittery as he interrupted her reading.

She glanced up from her book and met his nervous gaze. He wasn't an attractive boy, with pock-marked skin, a set of braces desperately trying to fix his crooked teeth. Her parents would have _loved_ for her to date and marry him; his parent's wealth rivalled their own.

"Hello Bobby." Myra attempted to sound pleasant, though her tone was thick with annoyance, "What can I do for you?"

"Well…" He seemed to be visibly shaking as he trailed off, "I heard you didn't have a date for prom…" He trailed off again.

Myra had a reputation for being not only smart, but incredibly violent when people annoyed her. The other female students had avoided her with a wide girth since she had ripped a considerable portion of a girl, called Martha's hair out in third grade. She was also responsible for testicular trauma in a boy in fifth grade, after he had made a comment about her being a bitch. She was known as 'Myra the dragon-lady'; red-headed and hot-tempered.

The only reason she hadn't been expelled, was because her parents had paid a considerable amount of 'compensation' fees; they were determined she was capable of behaving, and were adamant that she remain at this school. Her grades were also impressive, and she hadn't caused any issues with faculty, which also helped her cause.

The kids had let her be, and she loved it. Rick seemingly enjoyed it too, relishing in the fact that she could clear an entire room for them with a single glare.

"So…" Bobby muttered, bringing her attention back, "Would you like to go to prom with me?"

Myra frowned, glancing back down at her book, in an attempt, to cool her head, "No, thank you." She frowned, "I am waiting for someone _else_ to ask me." _Anyone_ else, truly.

"If you're talking about Rick…" Bobby trailed off slightly as she suddenly glared at him over her book, "H-He's told everyone he's asked Rebecca… because… you know?"

Myra found herself frowning in surprise and disgust. Rebecca Carter was known as the 'school bike'. Her parents were completely buying into the 'peace and love' movement and had seemingly embraced her sexual activity. Myra wasn't entirely sure if anyone, male or female, should be celebrated for being so promiscuous.

"He really asked her?" Myra asked, feeling suddenly irritated by the thought.

Bobby nodded nervously, "Well…. He said it would be an easy conquest for him… because she's had a crush on him forever..."

Myra glanced back down at her book. So, Rick wanted to ditch her for that bimbo; so be it.

"Fine." She muttered to Bobby, "I will go with you. Don't wear anything other than a _black_ suit. Pick me up at seven, on the dot. You can arrange the limo and everything else tedious that goes with prom." She waved, "bye-bye."

She glimpsed up as he walked away, seemingly impressed with himself. She noticed Rick was making his way towards her with two chocolate bars in hand; he shot Bobby a questioning frown, before he plonked down on the grass beside her.

"W-w-what's that dipshit so happy about?" Rick frowned, dropping one of the bars in her lap.

"You're looking at the wondrous specimen that is my prom date." Myra muttered in a sarcastic tone, marking her page and placing her book aside. She started unwrapping the chocolate bar.

Rick snorted, and then his eyes went wide when he realised she wasn't joking, "Oh my _god_; you're _serious?"_ He laughed in disbelief, "y-y-you're actually going to the prom with _that_ guy?" He shook his head, "what the _fuck?"_

"Well…" Myra said with a mouthful of chocolate, "Certainly doesn't hold a candle to Rebecca Carter." she shrugged, "But I'm not aiming for 'free love'."

Rick was frowning at her, "I-I haven't even asked her yet." He shrugged, "Guess I'd better hurry up; I-I-I heard she's _SUPER_ eager." He grinned suddenly.

Myra shrugged, "I bet she is." She sighed in frustration suddenly, "I should have just said yes to John; he at least asked me with _confidence_." She was frowning. John Miller was one of the jock boys; he was pleasing to the eyes and nice; the major drawback was he had rocks in his head. She hadn't been able to hold a decent conversation with him; she felt her braincells deteriorating in his mere presence.

Rick snorted, "Well…. Sure." He shrugged again, "But your parents will certainly be _thrilled_ with Bobby." He nudged her teasingly and she shoved him back.

"Well, I guess I will have to try and make the most of my _date_." She drew the word out as though it left a bad taste in her mouth. She wasn't going to enjoy a single minute in Bobby Fisher's company; but she wanted to see if Rick would give her any indication of caring. She glanced side-long at him as they ate their chocolate bars.

"I-If you're talking about doing _that_ with Bobby; Y-y-you're never going to live that down, Morty." Rick smirked at her, "You'll be forever tainted for other men."

"Who said I am even interested in men?" Myra growled, feeling annoyed, "Who said I can't be a lesbian?"

Rick snorted, "Come on; I've read your diaries." He said with a mouthful of chocolate, "_Oh Robert, why do you have to be such a handsome hunk of a specimen_?" He grinned widely, and ducked as she attempted to thrash him with her book. He let out a little chuckle of amusement.

"That was an _old dairy_." Myra said, feeling her cheeks burning in shame and violation. She had stopped keeping journals some years prior, luckily enough; Rick didn't grasp her need for mental privacy. "Who's to say that I don't like _both?"_

Rick shot her a stare as if to say she wasn't fooling anyone and she frowned back in response.

"C'mon, Morty!" Rick said, suddenly leaping to his feet, "I don't feel like school; let's go do something _fun_."

Myra climbed to her feet, frowning at him, "Maybe if I didn't have to drive you everywhere I could actually stay in school for an entire day." She smirked as he snorted.

"We both know school is merely an institution for dumb people." He grinned, "W-we're far too intelligent to waste our massive brains here." He gestured all around them with a wave of his arms, "L-let's go do some _real_ science." He started walking off towards the car.

Myra shook her head as she followed him. He may have been an arrogant asshole, with little to no emotional depth to him; that was completely evident. What irritated her the most was the fact she didn't want to change him for the world.

* * *

Agonising pain struck the moment Myra opened her eyes. The dreaded after-effects of her late-night bender with Rick were already taking their toll on her; daylight hadn't even struck. She grimaced in anguish as she sat up, cradling her head as she glimpsed around the dark room. Even though her body hadn't aged; she was far too old to have been drinking so much.

The faint glow of the power button on the TV and DVR was the only immediate light-source she could make out. She winced as she shakily stood up, wondering where the hell Rick was. He had the best hangover cures she had ever known and she desperately wanted one.

Myra doubted he was asleep; her rarely slept. He hadn't gotten completely plastered, so he wouldn't have passed out drunk like she had. Her logic drove her to the conclusion he would be wide awake and in the garage; so that was where she headed. She squinted through the darkness as she bumped her way through the kitchen, towards the garage. Myra could make out a faint glow of the light streaming beneath the closed door, and she fumbled around for the handle.

She succeeded after several blind attempts and opened the door without hesitation. Rick was slumped over his workbench, snoring up a storm as he slept in a pool of his own saliva. She found herself shaking her head; so much for assuming he _hadn't_ passed out drunk.

Myra shook her head and glimpsed around the garage, knowing that he would have stored the hangover cures somewhere near his workbench. Myra glimpsed at the pin board on the back wall and walked over with a thoughtful frown. She plucked out one of the pins and placed it elsewhere, delighted when it lifted to reveal a compartment.

A variety of inventions and power sources glowed in the dim light as she reached in and plucked out a container of a bright, pink, gooey substance. Myra also retrieved a glass from the compartment and replaced the pin in the board, watching as it slid back into place.

"Glad your storage senses are somewhat similar." She murmured, glancing briefly at the unconscious Rick as she poured a small amount of the slime into the glass. Myra's silvery eyes focused on the substance before she tipped it into her mouth; resisting her urge to gag at the consistency as it slid down her throat.

Her eyes wandered back to Rick as she composed herself; feeling the relief surge as her headache vanished, "Let's get you into bed, old man."

Luckily, she had been given the grand tour of the house earlier; Myra stepped forward and scooped him up in her arms effortlessly; extremely taken aback at how light he was.

"You really haven't been looking after yourself, have you?" she murmured and shook her head, jumping as she saw someone leaning against the doorframe. It was Summer.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting a little moment here?" Summer asked with a smug grin.

Myra smiled back in response, "Hardly." She eyed the younger girl inquisitively, "can't sleep?"

Summer snorted, "My four o'clock alarm went off so I thought I'd come check on Rick. He pays me to make sure that he gets into bed if he passes out drunk; which is pretty much _every_ night."

Myra raised her eyebrows in surprise, "You've certainly got his trust and respect." She said, stepping past Summer to head towards Rick's room.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Summer frowned as she followed her through the kitchen.

"Well, if he's asking you to look after him when he's the most vulnerable; he's literally trusting you with his life." Myra stated, "That's the highest praise anyone can get from this asshole."

Summer paused, appearing deep in thought as they walked up the stairs, "I'm guessing you used to have this job?" she inquired with a frown, "Unless you're doing it out of kindness, which in my grandpa's case, is laughable."

Myra shrugged, "We've been through quite a lot together; it's more out of familiarity than necessity or kindness." She murmured in a hushed tone as they neared the bedrooms. She turned into Rick's room, glimpsing around the basic-ness of it all, inhaling the familiar stench that was Rick.

She placed him on the bed and pulled the covers up with a scowl as Rick burped in her face.

"Disgusting." She frowned, turning on her heel. Summer was standing in the doorway.

"I better get back to bed; y'know, school and all that." Summer shrugged.

"If you're awake and will find it difficult to return to sleep; I have a proposition for you." Myra smirked, waving the old portal gun, Rick had given her in the air suddenly, "How would you like to go on a little adventure?"

Summer smirked back in response, "Lady, I like your style."

* * *

Rick awoke, feeling abhorrently hungover. After he had left Myra on the couch, he had decidedly gone on an extensive drinking bender. Anything that would help him pass out and stop the memories of the past that had continued to annoy him since he had laid eyes on his old friend.

It was increasingly bothersome that she would not reveal her true intention for appearing so suddenly. At first, he had suspected that she would reveal that her son, Ben, was his biological son. Though, as he had thought about it more and more, it was a disgusting cliche; even if it were true, there was no true reason for her to suddenly show up after thirty years to reveal something so trivial to him.

No, he was getting the inclination that something far more drastic was afoot.

He glanced around his simplistic room; his eyes rested on a glass of pink slime beside his bed. Rick felt a slight smirk curve his mouth, despite himself. Good old Myra.

He gulped the substance down, feeling the instant relief clear his head.

"Better?" Myra's voice sounded from the doorway and Rick jumped.

"I-I fucking _knew_ I should install you with a proximity alarm!" Rick snapped, feeling irritable as he looked at her. Her red hair was hanging in wet strands around her face as she lent against the doorframe; she was not long out of the shower. She looked amused by his reaction, her mouth curved into a bemused smirk as she stepped forward.

"Come on, old man; Summer and I took the liberty of getting breakfast for everyone, while you slept." Her tone was laced with humour as she grinned at him, "Get your rickety ass out of bed and join us." She turned on her heel to make her way downstairs.

Rick scowled to himself as he climbed out of bed. He wasn't going to let her tiptoe around much longer; he was going to get her intentions out of her by the end of the day.


	4. Chapter 4

"So… no-one is going to acknowledge t-t-that Jerry is naked?" Rick frowned as he sat at the breakfast table. Why did Beth decide to stay married to that imbecile?

"We _did_ – he's just pretending that he meant to do it." Myra shrugged, "I mean, from what I've heard everyone in this household is somewhat desensitized to male nudity; mostly due to your antics."

"Meaning t-they're used to _Rick_ n…udity; not Jerry." Rick shot back, pointing his fork at her accusingly, "The question is; why are _you_ so ok with it?"

Myra frowned, "I never said I was ok with it." She turned and looked Jerry in the eye, "I'm really _not_ ok with what you are doing and subjecting your kids to right now." She glanced back at Rick, "What are you trying to accuse me of, exactly?"

"T-t-that you're an old, perverted lady." Rick shrugged, "I mean, normal people aren't ok with random nudity."

Myra shot him an agitated glare, "We both know that I'm the queen of desensitisation."

Rick smirked, "It's true, when she was at college, she once walked t…hrough the men's locker rooms while virtually _every_ guy had t-t-their junk airing out in the open."

Jerry started to sneak off while no-one was paying attention. It was a poor effort, but no-one so much as glimpsed at him. Who in their right mind _would_?

"What?" Morty interjected suddenly, "_Why_ would y-y-you do that?"

Myra frowned, "Your grandfather thought he could hide in there and avoid getting punched in the face."

"Oh my god, what did you do?!" Summer gasped, glaring at Rick.

"I'm more interested in the fact my father was _afraid_ of her." Beth looked intrigued.

"I-I was a male, of course I did some…thing that upset her!" Rick belched and threw his arms up in the air in sheer frustration, "A-and at that point, my botched experiment had made her physically capable of levelling a building; what unarmed person _wouldn't_ be afraid of her?"

Myra opened her mouth to say something, but a portal suddenly opened behind her, sucking her inside. It snapped closed and the Smith's and Rick stared into empty space for several, silent moments.

"Well, that's _one_ way of avoiding a boring family meal." Rick muttered, taking a lengthy sip of his orange juice.

"Grandpa Rick!" Summer shouted. She and Morty were already on their feet.

"So, some Rick just _abducts_ your friend and y-y-you're suddenly ok with it?" Morty was shaking his head in annoyance, "Y-y-you literally just got her back in your life."

Rick stood up with a weary sigh, "Geeze M-m-Morty, I thought I almost cared for a second there; quite the pep talk." He frowned in annoyance. Of course, he was going to go after her; he was too selfish to let her get out of everything _that _easy. He reached into his lab coat pocket and withdrew his portal gun, quickly tracing energy residue and location of the other Rick's gun.

He felt a surge of frustration as the co-ordinates flickered onto the portal gun's small screen, "Fucking great." He huffed, feeling the irritation boil his blood.

"Where is she?" Summer asked, trying to peer at the screen where she stood.

"C'mon, Morty." Rick muttered, shooting open a portal on the wall, "L-looks like we've got some dipshit to rescue from the Citadel."

"Yaaay…" Beth muttered sarcastically.

* * *

Rick was more annoyed than usual as he was getting ready for prom. His mother was fussing over him incessantly, preening him more than she had ever done before. He knew she was just glad that he was going; he had repeatedly told her that he had no interest in it; only to tell her otherwise at the last moment.

"I still can't believe that you and Myra aren't going _together_!" His mother huffed, combing his crazed hair into place as he frowned at her. "I really thought you would have asked her to go!"

Rick rolled his eyes, "We're friends mom; why the _fuck_ w-would I want to change or complicate things?"

"Language." His mother said in a warning tone, "I know that you are _friends_ with her; I just always thought you might have liked her…. A little _more_ than a friend."

His father snorted from the recliner chair nearby, "We should just be thankful that he's taking a _girl_ along with him."

Rick scowled at his father's words.

"Is Myra at least coming over for photos?" Rick's mother pouted as she ignored his father. She scooped a mass of her red hair back into place as she straightened up to admire her handiwork.

Rick shrugged, "I don't know. Does it matter?" He was feeling annoyed by her constant questioning.

His mother placed her hands on her hips, "Richard, it's the absolute least I expect from you two. Photos of both of you." She grinned at him, her pretty face brightened, "Even _friends_ have to get their photos taken together for prom."

Rick frowned at her, "Fine." He muttered, folding his hands across his chest in frustration. Who was he to refuse his own mother?

The truth was, he was annoyed that Myra hadn't drawn the conclusion they were going to prom together. Did he have to spell out every fucking detail for her? When he had heard she had turned three guys down already, he assumed she knew they were going together; it was the logical thing. Myra was such an idiot.

He had stupidly boasted to the other boys at school, about how he was going to ask Rebecca Carter, because she was 'easy'; only because they already teased him relentlessly about being just _friends_ with Myra.

There was a knock on the door, and Rick snapped back to the present. His mother peeked out the curtains and then clapped her hands excitedly.

"Myra is here!" she grinned, virtually skipping towards the front door.

Rick frowned and rolled his eyes. He could hear the sound of the door opening, followed by a shrill squeal of delight from his mother.

"_OH, MY GOODNESS YOU LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL_!" his mother shrieked and rushed back into the living room. "Rod, grab the camera!" she was beaming as she glanced at Rick's father and vanished around the corner once more.

"Woah, calm down, Mrs Sanchez!" Myra exclaimed as Rick's mother continued to laugh and clap her hands.

Rick's father nudged him, suddenly seizing his attention. Rick looked up at the stern man, both frowned at each other bitterly before his dad spoke, "That girl is the best darn thing about you." He said, shaking his head, "She makes your asshole antics somewhat tolerable. Make sure to smile in at least _one _photo." His father thrust the camera into Rick's hands and wandered back towards the armchair.

His father rarely spoke to him; he wasn't the most 'hands on' dad. Rick wasn't entirely sure if he had just been given the Rodrigo Sanchez version of a pep-talk; though it certainly felt like it. Rick's dad wasn't one to mince words; he knew what he liked and didn't like and there were a _lot_ of things that Rod _didn't_ like. To hear that he actually enjoyed another living person was a rarity; let alone someone who _willingly_ associated with Rick. Rick didn't know what to make of the whole deal.

His mother suddenly rushed into the room and snatched the camera up, "Hurry up; we need photos!" Her entire face was bright with a happiness Rick had not seen in her for years. Being married to his father had gradually sucked the life out of her over the years; but looking at her then, Rick could almost assume it had come back in the one hit.

Myra walked into the room and Rick felt surprised. For someone who hated wearing dresses, she certainly looked good in one. She was wearing a lavender-coloured dress, which flattered her lean figure; her face was livened and softened with a light splash of makeup. She wasn't harsh on the eyes before she had been dolled up; though he was feeling like he was looking at her with a fresh set of eyes. She _did_ look beautiful; there was no denying it.

"L-l-look at you." Rick found himself grinning, "For a moment there I-i-I could almost see a fucking _girl."_ He laughed teasingly.

"Richard!" His mother snapped, "She looks so beautiful; you do sweetie, you look like an angel!" Mrs Sanchez was smiling as she turned to Myra.

"Thanks… I think my mother went a little overboard with everything; but I decided to give her a little win. I mean, I will be moving _far_ away after graduation." She smiled as she looked at Rick, "Not bad, Rick Sanchez; nice to see that hair calmed down for once." She smirked, glancing up at his smoothed down hair.

Rick's mother started insistently taking an array of photographs with both of them. It felt like hours ticked by until there was another knock on the door. Mrs Sanchez disappeared to go and answer it. Rick knew it was probably Rebecca; her told her to drop by his house, rather than having to go pick her up.

"I'm already over prom, and it hasn't even started." Myra moaned in a frustrated tone. "This dress is the _worst_."

"You actually look pretty nice." Rick shrugged, "It suits you." His hand absent-mindedly wandered to an object concealed in his pocket. His hand grasped a tiny little medicine bottle of a laxative solution he planned to use later to deal with both Bobby and Rebecca in one hit. There was no way he was going to let Myra off so easily for being an idiot. She wasn't going to ditch him tonight.

Rebecca and Bobby had arrived. Myra loitered around long enough to get another bombardment of photos before she said her goodbyes to Rick and his parents before she disappeared to get more photos taken by her own mother.

The next few hours had passed relatively slowly. Myra's father had driven them all to the prom in the Skylark he had given his daughter as an early graduation present. He never said a single word, even as he drove off; Myra didn't look phased by it in the slightest. Rick guessed she was used to him not giving two shits about anything; other than _money_.

Hours seemed to pass sluggishly while they were there.

The dance had been boring. Rick danced with Rebecca, feeling increasingly annoyed with her shrill, constant babble. As he looked around, he noticed Myra looked fed up with the evening; he could tell she was itching to leave. Bobby sat next to her awkwardly at a table, and Rick noticed Myra rolled her eyes every, single time Bobby so much as opened his mouth. She hadn't even danced with the fuckwit.

Rick had successfully carried out his plan and managed to spike Rebecca's and Bobby's drinks with the laxative. He grinned in a devilish humour as they raced off, some moments later; knowing that they were about to shit themselves uncontrollably.

He started searching around for Myra, surprised to see her dancing with Robert Miller. She had constantly denied being attracted to him for years; despite Rick having read her diary, which contradicted her words. She was smiling, even laughing as he said something to her.

Rick felt an unfamiliar surge of anger and jealousy boiling inside of him. He slumped down in a seat and folded his arms across his chest, glaring at them. Myra was _his_ friend; _his_ lackey. No-one else had claim to her- Rick virtually _owned_ her from the day that they met. She owed him _everything_. Why the hell was she dancing with that asshole? Why was she laughing? He wasn't even funny.

The realisation hit him hard as the song ended. Myra was another living person with her own free will; he couldn't _control _her; even with the neurological chip he had installed in her. But he knew he _wanted_ to control her; he wanted her to look at him the way she had looked at Robert – wanted her to do sick, nasty things to him. He expected that she would; she owed him that much, at least. But, wanting and expecting things never got anyone anywhere.

"That was something." Myra let out a dreamy sigh as she flopped down in a chair beside Rick, "In another life, I would have melted at the very idea of Robert touching me, let alone dancing with me so…close." She trailed off as she stared at Rick, "What crawled into your rectal cavity and died?"

Rick frowned, "Nothing! This whole dance is lame and stupid. Why the fuck did I make t-t-the mistake of coming?"

Myra tilted her head slightly as she glimpsed at him, he watched as a few stray curls slid into her face as she frowned, "Because this may very well be the last boorish teenager thing we do together, Rick Sanchez." She stated, her silvery eyes were intense, "Now, if you think that you're getting away without dancing with me tonight; you're in for a rude awakening." She began to grin as she yanked him to his feet as a slow song began to play.

Rick felt a smirk curving his mouth as she pulled him towards the dance-floor and tugged him close. Her arms wound around his neck and he directed his hands down to her waist, feeling oddly awkward. She smiled up at him, her eyes were bright as she boldly pressed her body against him.

He felt the warmth of her body surge through him, smelt the sweet, citrusy scent of her perfume as she lent her head against his shoulder. A sudden, uncomfortable tightness in his pants alarmed him; now was not the time for an awkward boner.

Odd, that he had seen her naked countless times in their youth, but all he was thinking about was her completely nude. He saw her body had changed, had filled out in all the desirable places; he wanted to see it, to _feel_ it. He had assumed sex in general would be amazing; but sex with _Myra_ would be particularly interesting.

"Hey _nerds_." One of the jock boys seized their attention suddenly, slow-dancing with a girl beside them on the dance floor. "Robert wants to know if you two are coming to the party at his place later?" Rick noticed how his eyes solely focused on Myra, meaning that he was only interested in if _she_ was going.

"A party?" Myra murmured, glancing at Rick briefly, "Sure, we'll be there!"

"Right on!" the boy grinned back in response and disappeared into the crowd once more.

"Are you insane?" Rick mumbled, "You _hate_ parties."

"_We_ hate parties." She corrected, "But I want to spend more time with you; after all, I will be leaving for college in a few months…"

Rick frowned, grabbing her waist tightly suddenly, "Fine. We will go to the stupid party"

Her face suddenly flushed bright red and he smirked in response. He held her firmly, noting how she looked timid and embarrassed. Did she _enjoy_ being manhandled?

His mind suddenly worked overtime on ways he could turn this sudden plan changer in his favour. By the end of the night, he was going to make sure he publicly ruined her for all men.

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

"_Morty_!" The sudden chorus of voices caught Myra completely off-guard as she landed on her feet. Her eyes went wide as she saw where she was, and who she was surrounded by. Ricks; Ricks everywhere.

"Oh shit…" she murmured, feeling on-edge.

"Ah we thought we lost you, Morty!" One Rick grinned, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, "W-w-we managed to find you; Y-y-you know, you've caused quite the situation here for an infinite number of us."

Another Rick slipped his hand around her waist and grinned, "We don't really like _sharing_, well, except for J26; but we all know he likes to cross swords with friends and family alike."

"What the hell is going on here?" Myra asked, feeling uncomfortable with the stares she was getting.

"Well, we started getting concerned. Myras were vanishing from timelines. Just one-day a-and _poof!" _the first Rick said, staring her in the eyes intently, "W-w-we managed to track _you_ down though."

"We generally have a 'no chicks allowed' policy on the citadel, but I think we're all in agreement here that we can make an exception for the original Morty?" One rick grinned, glancing around at the others, who all nodded in concurrence.

"J-just be sure to make sure those uptight asshole guards and cops don't get wind of this." One, particularly dishevelled Rick warned, "I don't t-think the president would be too happy about this."

Myra shoved the Ricks away from her, "Let me get this straight, this is a city, full of you guys?" She was frowning, "And some of you banded together to abduct me, for seemingly no reason?" She was getting a headache.

The Rick who had slung his arm around her neck stepped forward with a shrug, "We all come from timelines where there was a Myra in our immediate lives. One of us was stupid enough to have a _LOT _of kids with you." He jerked his thumb at dishevelled Rick, "But the one thing that seems to be pretty common p….lace is y-y-you are _disappearing_ for some reason."

Myra frowned at them, wishing she had been smart enough to keep a portal device on her at all times. These Ricks were really starting to make her feel uncomfortable with the way they were staring at her.

"Ok, here's the deal." Myra frowned, "I don't like the way some of you old geezers are looking at me." She pinched the bridge of her nose to avoid the surge of frustration from bubbling over. "Return me…_please_." She held up her hand to silence them as they started to laugh, "Now, need I point out that I asked you guys _nicely?_" She growled, clenching her fists as the anger boiled over, "We all know that I will go she-hulk on your asses if I have to ask again."

None of them looked concerned in the slightest.

"We want Myras back." One Rick shrugged, "logic drove us to the conclusion that _you_have something to do with the disappearances. Y-you aren't going any…where." He belched.

Myra swung a punch towards the nearest Rick. A sudden jab in her back caught her off-guard as pain and electrical energy surged through her body. She collapsed in a writhing heap, the world around her grew suddenly foggy.

"Jesus Christ, C-143, lower the voltage on t-that fucking thing; we aren't trying to fry her brain you dickwad!" one Rick shouted.

"Ah shit." One Rick knelt down beside her, checking her pulse on her neck, "Sh-she needs medical attention now, are you fucking happy, C-143."

"Who invited _that_ idiot?!"

The world went black.

* * *

"A-are we sure about this, Rick?" Morty sounded typically nervous as they strode through the streets of the citadel.

Rick's eyes were concentrated on the screen before him. Lucky, that he had secretly stolen a few strands of Myra's hair when she was passed out drunk. He knew that he would have to track her down sooner or later; but not on the Citadel. He suspected she had managed to get herself into some deep shit, though he was completely uncertain what could have other Ricks so uptight that they felt the need to abduct her so ridiculously.

"I'm certain, Morty. L-l-look around; no-one gives a shit." Rick muttered, feeling increasingly annoyed, "As long as we aren't subjected to any random checks we'll be fine." His eyes focused on the little flashing dot on his screen, pausing as they neared a road.

Morty was peering around, "This sure looks like it could be a bad neighbourhood…"

Rick briefly glanced up, "A-actually, they've really cleaned this place up since the last time I was here. This used to be Morty Town." He frowned suddenly, noting how clean everything looked. It was as though they had made some recent upgrades to the area. The notion that things could have politically changed crossed his mind before he decided it wasn't the time to go poking around in that regard.

He stared at the flashing dot on the screen once more, glancing up to a building across the street; Myra was there. He cringed at the name "Thicc Rick's? Ugh gross."

"I-is that what I _think_ it is?" Morty was frowning in premature disgust.

"I-I really hope not, Morty; chances are that it _IS_. I r…eally encourage you to cover your eyes. If I know me, and I _am_ me; this is going to be some pretty sick and twisted stuff."

They strode over to the entrance, where two buff Rick Guards blocked the way, "No Mortys allowed." one frowned, and suddenly gestured over towards the side of the building, "Ball pit access only; and no -that's not some sick play on words; i-it's a literal ball-pit and bouncy house."

Rick frowned, "Whatever. Morty go play with yourself." He said, shoving Morty towards the alley, "J-just wait here for a few minutes, Morty, while I get this dipshit out of here." He murmured in a low tone. He eyed a bouncy house and a ball-pit, which were sectioned off and guarded by a sleepy-looking guard. Morty wandered off with a scowl, clearly annoyed.

Rick strode back towards the door and the two guards stepped out of his way. Rick entered the doorway, expecting the worst kind of tacky Rick self-cest stripper joint he could imagine as loud cheers erupted. He was surprised to see the centre of the room had been completely cleared, the tables, chairs and stage had been moved to the edges of the room, where a large crowd of Ricks had gathered, crowding around two that occupied the centre of the floor.

They were fighting; their faces were already bloody from successful punches, as they circled each other. Rick shook his head and glanced around, spotting Myra in a large seat in a sectioned-off stage area, which overlooked the fighting ring. She was smirking as the crowd cheered as one landed another successful punch.

She had a Rick lackey on each side, one with dyed black hair and a goatee, the other with muscles similar to the bodyguards out front. Myra certainly didn't look like she needed him; that somehow annoyed Rick in a way he didn't know possible.

Her eyes wandered to him and she gave him a small wave. Had she somehow recognised him, despite the fact he looked identical to all the others? The idea seemed absurd, if not impossible as he suspiciously made his way towards her.

"You look like you're having fun." Rick frowned, folding his arms across his chest as he reached her, "Quite the operation you have g…oing on here."

Myra smiled, "I am, in fact, rather enjoying myself." She waved her hands at the other two Ricks and they left them.

"What the hell is happening here exactly?" Rick frowned, gesturing to the fighting ring.

"You know, I don't really know." Myra laughed to herself, "Myras are disappearing; these Ricks are surprisingly easy to manipulate." She shrugged suddenly.

"So, you just decided to start a Rick fight club for your own amusement?" Rick frowned at her.

"I had to do _something_ while I waited. These guys aren't exactly willing to let me just wander around. They suspect that I have something to do with the disappearances."

"Do you?" Rick frowned at her.

Myra frowned back in response, "Isn't it obvious?" She said, suddenly looking at him, "It's actually the reason I came to find you, after hearing you were back. I feel that you are the only one who can help."

Rick frowned at her, "Why the hell would I help?"

Myra stared back at the fighting, "I never said you _had_ to; I'm sure one of these versions of you would be willing to."

That rubbed him the wrong way.

He knew that he didn't have anything to prove to her; that he had no need to feel so uptight over her comparing him to other Ricks, whom she had successfully manipulated. But he certainly felt like he was better than those other assholes; felt like he would somehow prove her wrong and rub her nose in it.

"Don't try to manipulate me." Rick muttered bitterly, taking a swig from his flask. "I-i-it won't work."

Myra shrugged, "Wasn't trying to; what would be the point?" She glanced at him briefly, "It's a statement. All I need is a Rick; I'm sure any single one of you will do."

He felt the twinge of irritation increasing, bubbling beneath his skin. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction, deciding to see if her Neurological impairment chip was still in working order.

"I'm sorry, I was wrong, I love you." Rick muttered with a frown.

Myra turned and looked at him with a smirk, "Well, well, well…" she grinned, "I just _love _how you assumed I'd leave that _thing_ in my head; after thirty years. Quite the hypocrite about manipulation."

Rick shrugged, "It was worth a shot; l-let's go get Morty and get the fuck out of this place."

Myra frowned at him, "So, you _will_ help me?" she asked, her eyebrow cocked sceptically as she locked eyes with him.

Rick let out an exasperated scowl, "Fine! L-let's just go."

She stood up with a satisfied smirk, no doubt at the prospect she had gotten her way. Rick thought he was long past the days of buckling to another person; he'd have to deal with her newly acquired, irritating superiority complex when they were safely out of the citadel.

"Shall we take our leave, then?" Myra glimpsed at Rick with a questioning expression, her brows furrowed momentarily, "I've noticed a lot of the guys know that I'm not completely invulnerable- they seem to be carrying around some high-voltage tasers, in case I try to leave." She glimpsed at Rick, "So, let's portal outside, grab Morty and go?"

"Funny, how you can get hit by a semi-truck going full-pelt and survive, yet t-the _tiniest_ bit of electrical energy and you're a massive, writhing b….aby. Quite the anomaly we created." He shook his head, reaching into his coat pocket to retrieve his portal gun.

"Quite the anomaly _YOU _created." Myra corrected, watching as he shot open a portal on the wall behind them. A few Ricks let out a cry of surprise and annoyance as they stepped through and the portal blinked shut.

"C'mon M….orty." Rick belched loudly as they appeared in the alley next to the Thicc Rick's club. "Dipshit secured; l-let's get out of here."

Morty looked irritated as he glanced at the other Mortys having a fun time in the ball pit and bouncy house, "T-this is how Ricks choose to entertain us?" He shook his head in disbelief as he stepped through the safety netting, "How are they having fun; what's the _point?_"

"Ricks are assholes, Morty." Myra shrugged, "Always have been, always will be."

"Gee thanks." Rick frowned and opened another portal.

"Hey- that's not a regulation portal gun!" a nearby citadel guard shouted, drawing a strange-looking gun.

"Shit." Rick scowled, shoving Morty through the portal without thought. He abruptly tugged Myra through the portal as the guard fired the gun.

A strange, purplish field engulfed the three of them as they entered the portal. Myra suddenly grabbed Rick and Morty in a vice-like embrace, protectively wrapping her body around theirs. They hit something hard, and Rick felt the air escape his lungs, he hit his head against Myra's and suddenly felt his consciousness slipping away.

"Morty!" Rick could hear Myra shout with concern, "Are you ok?"

The world was growing foggy around Rick. That little shit had better be ok; he needed Morty.

"Y-yeah, I scraped my knee, but I think that's it." Morty's voice bought a surge of relief rushing through Rick as the world grew black.

* * *

"So," Morty was walking alongside Myra several hours later, "Tell me something about Rick I don't know."

Myra had slung Rick over her back with some rope, and was wearing him like a backpack. His long, thin legs were dragging on the ground, though that was the least of their problems.

Rick's portal gun had shattered, in his coat, on impact. They had appeared on a strange, alien planet somewhere on the very edge of the Milky Way system. Myra's best guess was the field the Guard Rick had shot at them was some sort of temporal disruptor, which had managed to interrupt the portal they were entering.

"I once successfully barred Rick from a room by placing a wickerchair by the door." Myra grinned, responding to Morty's question.

Morty let out a little laugh in response. They were walking towards an alien building Myra had spotted in the distance earlier; if they found the right resources she would be able to repair Rick's gun. Better yet, the old bastard could do it himself when he came-to.

Rick had been slipping in and out of consciousness since hitting his head against hers. Myra had set to work, making him as comfortable as possible as she quickly crafted a few necessities from the nearby surroundings. She had gone through the contents of Rick's lab coat and was surprised by how many useful things he managed to store in there. She was impressed that after all their years of misadventure, he had started taking so many portable tools with him. Maybe his adventures with his grandson were having some positive effects on him after all. It was an emotionally stirring thought, and she found herself smiling.

Morty was surprisingly level-headed the entire time; he even showed her where Rick stored some healing matter strapped to his leg. He was a caring and charming boy; it surprised Myra that he was an extended biproduct of Rick.

"Rick doesn't exactly tell us a-a-a great deal about his past." Morty was frowning as they walked through the thick, overgrown jungle. "He's kinda secretive, I guess. Which I-is why we were all so full of questions when you suddenly showed up."

Myra nodded, "Rick is more emotional than he lets on. Truth is, he might be _ashamed_ of a lot of the past; _his_ past. He wants you all to look up to him; to respect him. Maybe knowing the details behind it all will ruin this front he has been putting on? Maybe he doesn't want people feeling sorry for him? Who knows?"

"Why would he be ashamed of the past?" Morty frowned, "What could ha-a-ave happened to make him so secretive?"

Myra shrugged, "There's a lot that happened in his past- our past- that could, possibly, effect how people think and react to him. While I'm not comfortable betraying the asshole, by revealing gooey details; note that I _willingly _consider myself his close friend. For someone who is as ill-tempered and grudge-holding as I am, that should say a _lot_."

Morty considered her words for a moment, "What _can_ you tell me about your past then?"

Myra smirked, "We were constantly in trouble at school. We found it boring and mentally wasteful; constantly tried to keep ourselves occupied by playing pranks or skipping classes all-together, to go work on some experiment."

Morty glanced at his unconscious grandfather momentarily, his eyes drawing over his features. "Was he always like this?"

"A milder version, perhaps; but still an asshole." Myra stated with a fond smile, "He completely misses some things with emotional depth; but that's just how he is. I was surprised when he married your grandmother; he never seemed the one who wanted to settle down into family life."

Morty was frowning suddenly, "Well, he _didn't_ settle; he abandoned my mother and grandma."

Myra bit her tongue suddenly. They were broaching dangerous territory by talking about that era of Rick's life.

"Shh.." She muttered suddenly, drawing Rick's plasma pistol from her pocket, "Did you hear that?"

Morty fell silent momentarily as she pretended to listen intently. He frowned at her suddenly, "Don't try t-that trick with me; Rick does it all the time." He stared at her, "What are you hiding; I have a-a chance to get someone else to tell me everything about my grandpa's life; a-a-and you are being just as stubborn as him!" Morty looked annoyed.

Myra sighed, "Look, buddy…" she turned to him, "I can only tell you so much, and you will hate me; I guarantee it."

Morty shrugged, "Try me."

"Your grandfather and I…. were sort of…used to…." She made some crude gestures with her hands and Morty's expression contorted with disgust.

"Ugh… gross." He frowned, and then turned to her with a serious expression. "H-hey can you do me a favour and _not _tell Summer; we sort of had a bet a-and she just won."

"You're taking this rather well…" Myra frowned.

Morty shrugged, "Rick always talks about how platonic relationships with attractive women are completely hypothetical." He smirked, "I connected the dots."

"But you bet _against_ it?" Myra frowned, "Why?"

Morty shrugged, "Because it was too cliché. I was _hoping_ that it would be something a little more dramatic and original."

Myra found herself frowning as the truth of his words hit her.

"Compared to the nervous, pubescent sidekick platitude?" Myra muttered sourly, "Sorry to disappoint you by bumping nasties with your grandfather, in the past."

Morty screwed up his face in disgust, "Y-y-you don't have to go into detail, man." He held up his hands defensively, "I-i-in fact, the _less _details I know, the better."

They walked in silence for a few moments before Myra let out a little laugh.

"W-what's so funny?" Morty was frowning at her.

"Just the fact that the two of us 'Rick sidekicks', are on an adventure of our own; while I am wearing Rick as a bony, sack on my back." Myra shrugged, "Funny how I haven't needed Rick in my life for decades, yet he's still the first person I came running to when I ran into a little trouble."

Morty glanced at her, "Y-you're in some kind of trouble?" He frowned, "So, you thought it would be ok to drag us all into your mess?" He looked angry, stopping to scowl at her, "Y-you sound just as selfish and irresponsible…"

"Woah, calm those jets, bud." Myra held up her hands defensively, "Look, I may have only come to ask him for help _AFTER_ I found out he had returned to his family; but I didn't exactly come here on selfish terms. There is an infinite amount of lives that are currently in some sort of limbo because of our asshole son." She paused for a breath, "And Rick is the only person I could imagine would have the means to be able to prevent the cataclysmic events from escalating."

Morty was giving her a funny expression, "_OUR_ asshole son…?"

Myra frowned, "Before you add to the 'disgusting cliché' trope, let me just stop you; Yes, you have a long-lost uncle- no it isn't the reason I tracked Rick down; but due to what Ben _DID_ out of sheer stupidity and arrogance."

"Which _was_….?" Morty frowned, cocking his eyebrow at her as he stared at her suspiciously.

The ground suddenly trembled beneath their feet and Myra placed a protective hand on Morty, halting him in his tracks as he grasped Rick's plasma pistol tighter, pointing it ahead of him. They both stared around in silence, searching the jungle surroundings for whatever alien creature was large enough to make the very ground shake. Myra clenched her fists, bracing herself for an attack.

The large creature burst through the undergrowth, sending debris and dirt flying. It glared at them with three, menacing red eyes as it paused in it's tracks. Myra noted how its body appeared to be covered in a thick rock-like armour as it towered over them. Its mouth was gaping, drooling a purplish saliva. Something about the way its face was shaped reminded Myra of Sylvester Stallone and she found herself laughing.

"Hey, Rocky Balboa!" she was almost beside herself as she choked on a fit of amusement.

The creature let out a low, rumbling growl, slowly stepping forward. It leant its head down towards her, its teeth were bared in anger before it began to open it mouth wide. She swung her arm back and successfully landed a decent blow beneath it's chin. The creature toppled backwards several steps, before its eyes began to glow with a molten, red fury.

"Get behind me, Morty!" Myra shouted as the creature readied a charge.

"Ugh… w-what the fuck…?" Rick was awake suddenly. He began to jerk around, "WHAT THE FUCK?" He snapped, suddenly aware that he was tied up, "W-what the fuck is this _Myra_?!"

She ignored him, bracing herself for the impact of the creature. Rick was suddenly free and standing beside her. He rolled his eyes as the creature lunged towards them, his arm suddenly morphed into a large plasma cannon. Rick shot a single blast, and the creature was suddenly evaporated. There wasn't even a sprinkle of dust where it had been.

"Cybernetic augmentations?" Myra frowned as she lowered her fists, "You always said…"

"Doesn't matter." Rick was scowling as his arm folded back into place, "I'm in a different body practically every week; I do whatever the fuck I want." He rummaged through his pockets, retrieving a small syringe of goo, which he swiftly injected into himself. He let out a sigh of relief and shook his head, as if to clear it.

"You have a son." Morty blurted suddenly.

"I know." Rick shrugged.

"A-a-and you don't _care_?" Morty looked livid.

Rick whirled around on the boy, his expression suddenly dark, "Why the fuck would I _care, _Morty?" He pointed an accusing finger at him, "Sh-should I care about the infinite a…mount of alien-Rick hybrid spawn I have out there, floating around in space, Morty?" He scowled, "Why the fuck would I waste time o-o-on something so pointless, Morty?"

Myra shrugged at Morty as he glanced at her, as though he was begging for her to back him up. "If I wanted your grandfather to know about him sooner, I would have made a point of it."

"Y-yeah." Rick belched, and then gave Myra a brief glance, "Now tell me exactly what the fuck you h-have gotten yourself into."

Myra pulled up her pants leg, revealing a pirate tattoo on her right calf. Rick visibly cringed at the sight, "Ugh… not the pirate tattoo." He winced in disgust.

Myra rolled her eyes and pressed her fingers against the tattoo, and a compartment slid open on her leg. A bright, pink light suddenly blazed from within the compartment. Rick glanced at the crystal stowed away in there and whirled around in anger.

"S-so you've clearly gotten yourself into deeper shit than I could have ever assumed." He jabbed his finger at her, "Are you really that _stupid?"_ He was beside himself with anger, "Why the fuck would you steal one of those things… th-that thing is a fucking ticking time-bomb, Myra!"

Myra folded her arms across her chest as Rick continued to rant and berate her.

"W-what is it?" Morty asked, his eyes focused on the tiny gem.

"I-its fucking stupid, is what it is, Morty." Rick snapped, suddenly taking a lengthy drink from his flask, before he began to set to work on his broken portal gun, "Even grandpa isn't as fucking idiotic to go messing around w-w-with those things." He briefly stopped talking, holding his broken gun towards Myra who rolled her eyes.

She lifted her left hand, her fingers slid backwards and formed an assortment of tools. She screwed and fused a few things into place, as Rick set to work tearing apart one of his portable cauterising robotic implants he had in his pocket. Myra watched him work, occasionally fixing something into place for him with her swiss army hands.

He had the portal gun in working order, in virtually no time, and Myra felt irked by the knowledge. Rick visibly relaxed and shot open a portal on the ground, gesturing to Myra, "After you…"

Myra jumped through, appearing in the Smith's living room. She glanced around, surprised by what she saw.

Rick and Morty appeared beside her, and Rick began to frown.

Sitting in the armchair was a man who looked like a younger version of Rick; only he sported a short crop of reddish hair and freckles. He stood up, his stern expression darkened as he folded his arms across his chest.

The 'cats and the cradle' suddenly started chiming.

"_He'd say, I'm gonna be like you, dad  
You know I'm gonna be like you_

_And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon  
Little boy blue and the man in the moon  
When you coming home, dad?  
I don't know when  
But we'll get together then, dad  
You know we'll have a good time then"_

Jerry sheepishly reached into his pocket and grasped his phone, abruptly rejecting the call, "Sorry…talk about timing though…."

"Shut up, Jerry." Rick and Ben snapped in unison.

* * *

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**please let me know what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

The morning sunlight streamed in through the unfamiliar window as Myra struggled to open her eyes. She glanced around the strange bedroom as she attempted to get her bearings; despite the painful throbbing in her head that was threatening to burst her skull.

She managed to have some very fuzzy recollections of the prom after party; she had consumed a lot of alcohol; Rick had encouraged her terrible antics.

_Rick!_

With the sudden thought her eyes whipped around to the mound next to her in the bed.

The messy mass of blueish hair confirmed her anguished memories. It had been a disappointing moment, when all her fantasised expectations came down to a less than a minute experience. Rick had passed out almost immediately afterwards. Apparently, so had she.

She clenched her fists in annoyance and punched him in the shoulder.

He jerked awake instantly, "What the fuck!?" He snapped, his eyes were wide and bloodshot as he looked at her wildly, "Nice, uh… breasts you have there." He was grinning, despite the fact he had been so rudely awoken.

Myra punched him again, not attempting to hide her nudity. He chuckled pleasantly and ducked away from her assault, pulling the blanket to protect his head as she walloped him repeatedly.

"Rick Sanchez!" Myra snapped, "that was by far the _briefest_, and most _disappointing_ moment in my life!"

Rick lunged at her, wrapping the blanket around her arms and pinning her beneath it. She squealed and attempted to wriggle free.

"Oh, I'm _sorry; _are you stuck?" Rick grinned down at her. His eyes were bright with humour, "don't like being an oversized burrito i-in a bed I'd certainly love to take a black light to?"

Myra smirked at him, "we can't be _premature_ about this, Rick…" She felt the teasing smile curve her lips.

She was surprised as Rick's face began to turn red. Was he _embarrassed?_

He let her go and stood up, gathering his clothes, "Cut me some slack! Y-y-you had me all pent up… y-y-you got me too excited last night!"

Myra stood up and pressed her hands against his forearms to stop him, as he started to pull his pants on, "Don't be such a dinghole." She frowned, "If you think that I'm going to let you leave without truly and _completely_ satisfying me, I might just have to tie you to that bed …"

Rick glanced at her, and she was surprised to see the shock and humility in his eyes.

It was gone moments later as he smirked, "Oh, really?" he grinned at her, "Well, I-i-I can't say that's _not_ something I'd be into…" he cocked a brow at her.

Myra pressed her body against his, feeling a sense of comfort as she felt his warmth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him down for an eager kiss. He responded with enthusiasm, his mouth hot against hers as he pressed her back onto the bed.

She suppressed the urge to moan at how wonderful it felt to be held beneath him; at how _right_ everything seemed.

He pressed his mouth against her neck, sending tingles of pleasure coursing through her body. She couldn't help but to gasp at the sensation, and she felt his mouth curve into a sly smile against her skin.

The door suddenly burst open and there was a bright flash, followed by a disgusted grunt.

"Oh man, that's quite the sight there, Sanchez!" Robert was chortling with a group of fellow jockey meatheads. He was holding camera, smiling with amusement as Rick leapt back and hurriedly began to cover himself and Myra with a blanket.

Myra and Rick scowled as the group began to chortle again; Robert took another photo with a blinding flash.

She leapt to her feet, indifferent to the fact she was naked. Their eyes wandered eagerly over her as she rushed towards them, clearly oblivious to the fact.

She snatched the camera without hesitation, throwing it with force at the floor. It shattered.

The boys let out cries of surprise; she punched Robert in the face and grasped him by the hair, forcing his head down as she brought her knee up. She heard a sickening crunch as his nose broke and kicked him in the gut, forcing him back into the hallway. He fell in a heap on the wooden floor; blood gushed from his nose and mouth, where teeth were missing.

"Fuck. You. Asshole." she said. With each word she kicked him sharply in the ribs. She glared darkly at the other boys, who were all staring at her in horror. She feigned a rush at one of them, and he tripped over as he went to run away.

"Get the fuck away from me, you Neanderthals." She snarled at them. They all began to disperse Robert was laying in a bloody heap on the floor. Perhaps it had been a little overkill; but he deserved every bit of it.

She turned back to the room, surprised to see Rick already dressed. He thrust her dress at her, "Haver I ever mentioned how beneficial being friends with a psycho bitch like you is?" He laughed, "If I-I had a few of my things on me I'd have done that myself; you kinda saved me the hassle."

Myra climbed into her dress and turned around. Rick zipped her up without hesitation and she turned to look at him with a smug grin, "_Beneficial_ is certainly one way of putting it, she chuckled, flexing and unflexing her right hand, which was beginning to ache from her punch.

"Let's get the hell out of here, Morty." Rick muttered, stepping over Robert's unconscious body in the hallway. "We have better things to be doing…"

"Like each other?" Myra added with a grin.

Rick snickered in response.

* * *

"So, what's the deal with you and Rick?" Dianne's words came as a surprise to Myra. She glanced up from the paper she was writing and glanced at her beautiful blonde roommate.

Myra could assume _why _Dianne was asking the question; the tone of her voice all but gave it away.

Rick had secretly stowed away in Myra's luggage when she had headed to college. When he had miraculously spurted from a vase in the trunk of her car she had practically had a heart attack. He had laughed for an entire day about the ordeal. Myra hadn't found it so amusing.

"We're childhood friends." Myra shrugged dismissively, glancing back down at her paper. Truth was, they had been physically _more_ than that since their awkward tumble at the prom after-party. Though, it was just an additional benefit of their friendship now. "We do have sex occasionally." Myra added.

"What?" Dianne sounded bewildered, "How is it possible to be _friends_ with someone you are having sex with?" her eyes went wide with shock.

Myra glanced up again, feeling irritated, "Its easy. We are friends; who have sex sometimes." She felt her teeth clenching in frustration, "It _is_ possible to sleep with someone and feel no sense of unreasonable love for the person."

Dianne frowned, and started to set aside her mountain of textbooks she had opened around her on the floor. She was a smart girl, but Myra was easily annoyed by her constant need for 'girl talk'; or truly, any talk in general.

"So, if Rick were to start dating someone…?" Dianne asked inquisitively.

"I couldn't care less." Myra frowned, "Rick Sanchez is free to do whatever and _whoever_ he wants. In fact, he _does_." She stated, "If you want to start dating him, just do it. It would only mean that my best friend has a girlfriend and my 'sometimes sex' with Rick would obviously end."

It was the truth. Myra had no intention of potentially ruining a relationship between two people. Ever since she had started sleeping with Rick; Myra had somehow felt more independent and distant. She didn't feel like she needed to be around Rick every waking minute of the day; she felt she was able to do her own thing.

She had been completely ready for her independent collage life; when she had left her hometown, and said her goodbyes to everyone, she had known she would be free from her parents and Rick. She wouldn't need anyone; for the very first time in her life.

So, as Rick had busted from a vase he had created dimensional transcendentalism in- Myra had felt disappointed. For the first time in her life, she was _disappointed_ to see Rick Sanchez.

Myra glanced at the vase on the dresser at the end of her bed. He was no doubt inside, eavesdropping or tinkering with something. Either way, she wasn't feeling in the caring mood.

"…so…" Dianne cleared her throat, "_How_ is the sex?"

Myra let out an exasperated huff and all but threw her pen onto the desk in frustration, "Dianne, I have _no_ interest in the conversation we are currently having; if you had not picked up on the many social ques I have given you." She snapped, "If you want to find out what a physical relationship with Rick is like; dive right in and have fun." Myra stood up and snatched her handbag from beside her bed.

She slammed the door harder than she had anticipated as she left the room. She was instantly greeted by an array of cheerleader-like girls who all smiled sweetly at her and grinned, babbling about stupid things Myra had no interest in. She shoved past them roughly, and hurriedly left the sorority house, hearing confused and irritated blather behind her.

"What's wrong with her?" she heard one of them mutter sourly.

_Everything_ was wrong.

She was bored and irritated with college already, and she was only halfway through her first year. The work was far easier than she had envisioned. Rick _had _warned her about college not being for smart people; and he _was_ nearly always right.

The other sorority girls were frustrating. They were the things Myra's nightmares were made of, with their endless gossip and complaining about boys, and their incessant need to perform 'makeovers' on everyone.

Her roommate, Dianne was by far the worst. Always asking her stupid questions, ogling and distracting Rick every time he was with Myra. For someone who was as smart as Dianne, it was truly irritating to share a room with a barbie like her. She wasn't full of any useful information; just pointless, idol gossip. Like the rest of the house.

Myra huffed and pulled her scarf over her face slightly, feeling the bitter chill of winter biting through the dusk air.

"Yo!" Rick was suddenly beside her, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"The usual, bored, irritated and hormonal." Myra frowned, "I am assuming you weren't there?" '

Rick smirked at her, "I haven't been there in a week, y-you dipstick." He shrugged, "I have actually sh-shacked up in a frat house; I'm kinda the life of the place over there. I've taken over the entire basement area with science stuff; y-you should come see the shit I have been working on while you've been busy with '_college'._"

"Working without me?" Myra glimpsed at Rick, "That's somewhat of a surprise."

Rick grinned at her, "J-just come have a look; I'm starting to freeze my balls off out here."

He gave her arm a gentle tug as he started off in the direction of the frat house he was talking about. Myra was surprise that she yielded to his touch so easily; she turned towards him, halting in her tracks.

"My roommate Dianne has a thing for you." She said, gaging his reaction.

"That blonde piece?" Rick said, turning to glance at her over his shoulder.

Myra nodded, "I may have been quite rude to her about the whole thing; but the truth of the matter is I can't stand her. She seems too fake; to willing to please everyone and give cheery gossip the moment my alarm goes off in the morning." Myra suppressed the urge to shudder, "But she's smart and beautiful. All the things wet dreams are made of."

Rick smirked at her then, "W-where is all this coming from?"

Myra stuffed her hands into her coat pocket and shrugged, "Maybe everything is starting to get to me. Everything is so different than I had imagined; I don't know how to make heads or tails of anything that's going on."

Rick looked her dead in the eye, "Well as much as I'd like to give you the 'I told you so', speech right now; I have something really cool I want to show you- _and_ for the first time in a while i-it's _not_ my dick." He grinned.

Myra couldn't help but to smirk at his comment as he started to drag her after him.

He certainly _did_ like to show her his dick when she least expected it. But there was something about the way he was holding himself; something about the excitement that was glimmering in his eyes that told her that he had discovered or created something amazing.

When they arrived at the frat house, Myra briefly noted it was the least popular 'nerdy' frat. Not that their reputation stopped them from throwing parties where they drank excessively until they passed out; the bodies sprawled on the porch and house were evident of that.

"They uh… couldn't keep up last night. I-I kinda bet them I could drink all of them under the table and th-then some… a-a-and I _did_." Rick muttered as a brief explanation as they stepped through the almost apocalyptic-like scenery of the house. It was a mess with bottles, cans and plastic cups; they had certainly outdone themselves.

"Let me guess, you were blind drunk and still managed to pull some amazing invention out of your ass?" Myra smirked at Rick as they headed down the basement stairs.

"Well, duh." Rick grinned at her, "bask in the glow of my genius." He gestured to a strange platform with a circular archway. Myra's eyes went wide with awe; it was something they had spoken of their entire lives together; a portal which could power a gateway through into another dimension; into entire new worlds.

"Is that…?" She asked, her eyes wandered over the power system, amazed at how he had managed to gather all the components he needed to be able to power something so complex.

"It _is_," he grinned in response, "A-and I guarantee it will work too; all I need is a little isotope to…"

She whirled around and glared at him, suddenly feeling angry, "Rick…" She said in a stern tone, "Are you telling me that you don't have it yet?" She snapped, understanding why he was showing her. He wanted her to steak the nuclear isotope they had locked up tight on campus. The very illegal isotope that a select few were conducting experiments on; the one _she_ had access to, despite the fact she was a freshman.

Rick snorted at her, and wandered over to a compartment, and opened the hatch. The green glow confirmed that he had already successfully stolen it.

"Believe it or not, Morty, I-I don't always have ulterior motives." He grinned at her, cocking his brow as the devilishly smug expression covered his face, "I can do whatever the fuck I want, Morty. I-I'm a big boy."

She suppressed the urge to make a dick joke, instead she cleared her throat, "So, you going to cut the foreplay and show me what this thing can do?"

Rick grinned impossibly wide and laughed, "Well, aren't we eager today?" he pressed a button and the portal began to whir with energy. It fizzled to life, the archway glowed a mystical blue and swirled like the great depths of the ocean.

"After you." Rick gestured with his hand, his voice was filled with amusement at the dumb expression Myra realised must have covered her face.

She stepped through, feeling an icy cold rush of air. Her eyes went wide at what she saw. It was a completely different world; an deep reddish landscape, which had deep pockets of green and maroon in the distance Myra noted must have been an alien jungle.

There were strange buildings nearby, which bought Dr sues books to Myra's mind. She realised that this place had life, and she was very eager to explore.

"Panties a little wet there?" Rick snorted in amusement.

"I'd be surprised if they _weren't_." she murmured, still glancing around, "this is amazing; words will never be able to express how blown my mind is right now…"

Rick smirked, "Well, y-you could have been a bigger part of this, Morty." He said matter-of-factly, "Instead of being a sell out and going to a school you are far too smart to attend." He sounded suddenly annoyed, "Y-you could have gotten your parents to buy you a nice little house somewhere a-a-and we could have done this in t-the garage or something."

He was right. He usually was.

She could have been doing _real_ science, rather than sticking to boring curriculum and reading textbooks and writing essays. College had restricted her in many ways; she had felt bitter because of it.

"You're right…" She murmured, as much as she hated the idea of relying on her parents for anything; she desperately craved the mental stimulation of working alongside Rick. "I have so many ideas right now, I feel regenerated by what you have been able to pull out of your ass." She turned to him with a grin, "But before I cry home to my daddy to buy me a house; do you want to be the first humans to fornicate wherever the hell this is?"

"Planet Squanch" Rick added, "I may or may not have talked to some of the natives already."

Myra shook her head at him, resisting the urge to throttle him, "So… was that a _yes_?"

Rick shrugged, "I could fuck."

She grinned in response, jumping as a shadow crossed her peripheral vision, "I am sorry, I did not mean to interrupt your strange mating ritual."

Myra turned around, meeting the gaze of a female bird-person. Her stomach was engorged, and Myra understood right away that she was pregnant.

"Oh…you weren't interrupting anything yet." Myra shrugged.

"Good. That would have been most unfortunate and awkward." Her expression was deadpan as she waddled past them, heading towards the nearby trees.

Rick glanced at Myra, "T-the pregnant ones' venture into the wilderness to birth their eggs. A-apparently it's a very private affair." He let out a sigh, "But we'd better head back now; I'm not entirely confident in those assholes leaving the portal device alone, if they see it." He muttered, stepping back through.

Myra followed him, feeling her mind awakened to the endless possibilities Rick's invention had made in her life. She felt reborn, completely excited by the fact they would be able to make all sorts of scientific discoveries and breakthroughs.

"Get on the phone to Daddy Warbucks ," Rick was suddenly close behind her, his hands were winding around her waist as he pulled her close, whispering with hot breath against her neck "L-let's take this shit to the next level."

* * *

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	7. Chapter 7

"Let's get this straight…" Beth let out an exasperated huff and pinched the bridge of her nose, as if to suppress her frustration. "You were sleeping with your _friend_, behind mom's back and ended up getting her _pregnant_?" She frowned and met Rick's eyes; her expression was dark, "All this time, you called _me_ and idiot for falling pregnant at seventeen."

"Well to be perfectly fair, sweetie; we were practically forty at the time." Rick shrugged his shoulders and snatched his flask out of his coat. All the while his eyes remained on Ben; they appeared to be sizing each other up. "Y-y-you can't compare your lack of in…sight into Jerry's stupidity, to my cock-up." He belched with an indifferent expression.

"Mom, let's go." Ben frowned, his glance unwavering from Rick, "I'm growing increasingly irked by _this_." His eyes gestured towards Rick.

Myra shook her head, "No, Ben; he's the only person who is capable of preventing the current crisis." She folded her arms across her chest and frowned at her son. She felt her mouth form a firm line as she her stubbornness kicked in.

"Hold on, I'm not finished here." Beth's expression was dark with rage, "Is _this_ the reason why things were always so strained with mom?" She gestured to Myra as though she were some vile, contaminated object.

"Mom, l-l-let's just leave this… situation; I-it's not like it really matters or anything." Morty stepped forward, in an attempt to dissolve the situation. He appeared on edge, "I-i-I mean, what's done is done, am I right?"

"It matters to _me_, Morty." Beth scowled, stepping forward, her eyes unwavering from Rick. "All this time, you have been running unopposed for shittiest father who ever breathed; hands down. But this truly takes the cake, dad!" She jabbed her finger at Rick.

Rick was frowning as he took a swig from his flask. Myra knew that although he looked indifferent on the outside, Beth's words had struck a chord.

Myra let out an irritated grunt and stepped forward between Beth and Rick, "Look, the whole situation between your father and I has always been complicated. That's a fact, plain and simple." She frowned, "I'm _never_ going to be able to ever make up for anything I've done that caused more tension between your father and mother; but for what it's worth I am _truly_ and deeply sorry." Myra said, looking Beth in the eyes. "I _knew_ what I was doing… what I was _allowing_ to happen was wrong; _terribly_ _wrong_ and there's a list of issues I'm certain a psychologist would certainly love to dig deeper into… I know your mother certainly tried." She paused.

"This is so awkward…" Summer whispered to Morty and Jerry.

"I don't care about anything _you _have to say." Beth muttered to Myra bitterly, "The opinion and words of my father's whore is less than important right now." She snapped, her eyes aflame with anger.

"_Moooom_!" Ben cut in, as he moaned in a childishly whiny tone. Myra held up her hand to silence him.

Myra decidedly ignored her Son and glanced at Rick, who had turned on his heel suddenly to head towards the garage.

"Oh, by all means; run away!" Beth snapped, following after him, "We all know that's the one thing we can always count on you doing!" She growled, "Maybe you'll actually do something _useful_ and start packing all your shit."

Myra grabbed Beth's shoulder to hold her in place, and was met by Beth's furious snarl. She opened her mouth to say something, but her words were suddenly cut off as an invisible force held them in place.

"Yeah this is the one!" There was a shout, "This is the human female who took the thing."

Myra could make out a fleshy figure in the corner of her vision, though she was unable to move to confirm what they were.

"Testicle monsters…" Summer murmured before everything went black.

* * *

"God, fucking damn it!" Rick snapped, holding his arm as he shut down the portal platform, "I-I thought I told you to cover my ass, not let that fucking blowfly shoot me!" He grumbled irritably as he started through the medical items in the crammed garage.

It had been just over a year since Myra had successfully conned her parents into buying a house, just off campus from the college. Their bargaining chip was that she had to attend college, graduate with good grades, and eventually bag a wealthy, eligible bachelor. So far, she was holding down two parts of the deal.

"For the last time, I told you I was a little preoccupied by the four guys who had me cornered." Myra snapped back in response, snatching a bottle of alcohol out of Rick's hand and tipping it on his wound.

"FUCK!" He snapped, slapping her away.

"Hold still, you overgrown baby!" She grumbled, wrestling with him to hold him steady, "It's a plasma blast wound, and you can't just go probing it with your ape-fingers so senselessly!"

Rick shoved her off him, a grin curving his mouth, "I'm so glad that you aren't freakishly strong or anything; otherwise you might be an _actual_ threat!" He smirked, reaching onto the top shelf, which was stocked with an assortment of bottles and flasks of liquid. He retrieved the greyish plasma-burn salve Myra had made and shook his head, "We really need to make this portal situation more portable." He muttered, frowning suddenly.

"I managed to snatch the professor's keys if you need to go hunting for some illicit materials again." Myra smiled slightly, "though I am pretty sure they have the place under surveillance by now, considering the last stock counts were so low."

Rick smirked, as he rubbed the salve into the wound on his shoulder "Actually, while you have been busy with _'college', _I have actually started work on an interesting prototype for a gun-like device." He was grinning from ear-to ear, "But i-it's not ready yet… all work in progress."

Myra nudged him and admired how the seared flesh began to knit back together, leaving Rick's skin completely unblemished. Being able to access all the alien resources through the portal had unleashed the endless possibilities at their very fingertips. All the different minerals, elements and matter was extraordinary. Their scientific discoveries had been endless over the year that had passed. She was amazed by it all.

There was a sudden knock on the front door.

Rick and Myra looked at each other in confusion. No one ever visited them; they didn't exactly branch out a great deal in the social aspects. They were quite contempt doing their own thing – typically off-earth.

"Better go get that." Rick smirked at her, jerking his head in the direction of the door.

"Ugh, why do I always have to get the door?" Myra moaned irritably as she set off.

They had a good thing going; whatever their situation was.

She felt her limbs grow heavy as she reached the front door. Myra opened it and was surprised by the beam of happiness that stared back at her.

"Hey Myra!" Diane grinned back at her, "A few of the girls told me where you lived, so I thought I would drop by with gifts!" She thrust a Tupperware container of muffins into Myra's arms and practically barged inside. "This house is HUUUUGE!"

Myra felt a frown of irritation forming, "Why are you here?"

"To say hello, I mean we used to be so close and then you just _vanished_!" Diane smiled, "I mean, its been a year and… nothing!"

"Ugh… You're here for Rick, aren't you?" Myra felt the disgust cloud her mood, "He's in the garage; I can go get him if you want?"

"_Rick_ lives here too?" Diane feigned surprise, "Wow, I didn't think two people in your situation would do that…."

"Our _situation_?" Myra frowned in confusion.

"Friends with benefits; I did an entire psychology paper on it last semester. Needless to say, you guys were the main inspiration." Diane smiled pleasantly, her eyes wandered around the house once more.

"A psychology paper?" Myra frowned, still feeling like she had been hit by a hurricane of confusion from the moment Diane had appeared.

"On the psychological benefits and drawbacks of being in a 'friends with benefits' type situation. Most of them don't last too long; perhaps six months tops from what I had investigated. I am very surprised by the fact that you two are still at it; let alone _living together!"_ She smiled, her eyes suddenly full of intrigue, "So how _does_ it work when you bring _other_ people home? Is it a 'no other people under the same roof' type deal, or you guys don't care whether you see the other with another person….etc?"

Myra blinked, "_other_ people?" the confusion whirled in her head.

"I mean, you guys _do_ see _other _people too?" Diane's tone was soft, gentle yet somehow menacing.

Myra stared into space. She knew that she certainly hadn't slept with another person; there just wasn't the need, appeal, or time to sleep with another person. Rick was close; Rick was convenient.

"I see…" Dianne made a clicking sound with her tongue, "I hate to break it to you, but you guys have been _dating_ this entire time." She made a pained expression, though Myra knew Dianne was reeling with delight at the fact she had unnerved her. "Well, I'll let you process _that_…" Dianne smirked and headed towards the door, "Don't forget, my door is always open for you guys whenever _either_ of you needs me…" The door clicked closed and Myra was suddenly staring into empty space, holding the container of muffins.

"Who was it?" Rick suddenly appeared in the garage doorway nearby. He was looking at her with concern, "Everything alright?"

Myra turned and looked at him, feeling suddenly flustered, "we need to talk…"

* * *

"Y-your mother is quite the piece of shit, you know that, right?" Rick glanced side-long at Ben, who was sitting in the passenger seat of the space car. Morty was seated in the back looking very irritated.

"Y-you don't have to a-aggravate h-him." Morty gave Ben a tentative glimpse as his uncle scanned the area in a spherical device, approximately the size of a baseball.

Rick could tell by Ben's stance, that he was becoming increasingly irritated as they wandered through the dimensional tear.

"I'll have you know, Morty, there is virtually _nothing_ that could be said or done to change my current temperament towards your grandfather." Ben muttered in a matter-of-fact tone, "Although, I'm not well-known for my predictability."

Rick snorted at Ben's smug words, "Oh yeah?" He sneered, "What _are _you known for? A passing resemblance to Ronald McDonald? Or perhaps for having your own head l…lodged WAAAY up inside your own ass?"

"Gee, Rick." Morty muttered, "Y-y-you're really trying to piss him off, aren't you?" He appeared as though his anxiety levels were escalating, "W-Why is that something you would want?"

"Let's just focus on getting our respective mothers back." Ben muttered, turning his attention back to the spherical device in a dismissive manner. "I fabricated this tear upon stealing that temporal crystal from the fourth dimension. By rights there should be an entrance right into their prison facility nearby…"

"I'm assuming you're hoping to by…pass most of their security measures; y'know _assuming_ they haven't already liquified Myra and your mother by now." Rick belched and snatched his flask out of his coat pocket testily. He didn't have the patience for the moody asshole. Ben was a dick.

Rick couldn't imagine such an arrogant, narcissistic dick-wad could be a biproduct of Myra. Then again, he _was_ also carrying part Rick DNA.

"I know that their fate may not matter to the likes of _you,_" Ben frowned, turning around to face Rick, "But I happen to care about what happens to my mother…and half-sister." He glanced at Morty briefly, before turning his eyes back towards Rick, ", return home and drink yourself into a stupor; perhaps that will help numb some of the pain of the life of ignorance and narcissism you have led. You're nothing but a toxic parasite; ill-contempt with your own company, so you _force_ it upon other people." Ben paused, his eyes narrowing, "You're better off being alone, destroying yourself and not the people that get caught up in your narcissistic antics."

Rick frowned, "Quite the monologue there." He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, "But you can't get rid of me so easily. I made your mother a bet of sorts, and I-I'm the kind of selfish prick who needs to see it through." He stepped past Ben and gestured to a colourful, rippling mass of translucency nearby, "T-think _this_ is what you are looking for, by the way. Hope the rest of your plan is a million times better than your eyesight."

* * *

"This is the worst." Beth was pacing around the shimmering field-cell with an irritated expression on her face.

Myra was seated on the floor, looking through the transparent barriers at the floop-floopian prisoner in the cell below them. She understood that Beth was caught up in a whirl of emotions over the fact that Myra and Rick had been sleeping together while her parents were married. There was no denying that Rick had done some really despicable things over the course of his lifetime. Just when Beth had seemingly come to terms with the fact her dad was an ass; this revelation seeming put her in the ringer again.

Myra was decidedly keeping her mouth shut; there was nothing she could say to remedy the past. At the time, she had been unable to resist Rick; the fact that he was married also made it all the more wicked and thrilling. Myra understood that made her a disgusting excuse of a person and admitting her appalling behaviour would still never smooth things over with Beth.

"I used to _look_ up to you." Beth said, the emotion caused her voice to strain.

Myra glanced up and stared at the younger woman, feeling her heart breaking at the look of sorrow and betrayal in her eyes. She felt the motherly urge to comfort her, but she knew that any effort she made would be rebutted.

"I'll never be able to say I am sorry enough, Beth." Myra murmured, glancing down again, "It was wrong, but it somehow felt right. There was always something about your father I couldn't resist. It wasn't just the fact that we had the extensive history together; but when it was just us it felt so _right_." Myra sighed, feeling disgusted and disappointed in herself. "To be honest, I was under the delusion I was in love with him." Myra felt her face contorted into a pained expression and she made an effort to turn away from Beth to hide it.

Although it had been decades, the emotions were still raw. She had never wanted to ever reveal them; everyone was better off not seeing her so vulnerable.

Beth was suddenly sitting beside Myra; her heavy sigh filled the awkward silence.

"Is it wrong that I still love the asshole, despite all the misery and abandonment?" Beth said wearily, cradling her head in frustration.

Myra offered a strained smile and placed a hand on Beth's shoulder, "Despite the fact he is a toxic, narcissistic anal fissure; he still knows how to get into people's lives. He just…. digs his roots into everything and wrecks it." She sighed heavily, "Your mother had a hard time trying to psycho analyse him."

Beth smirked slightly and glanced down at the floor, "She really did, didn't she?" Her brows pinched together, "In the end, they were so miserable in each other's company. I honestly don't know if him cheating was the biggest issue; they were just so incompatible." She turned to Myra with sad eyes, "Were they _ever_ happy?"

Myra nodded, "They _were_. For _years_ they were." She looked away again, "And then one day they weren't; or maybe they grew tired of hiding it. For some reason, Rick thought it would be a great idea to get drunk and show up on my doorstep. He was an emotional wreck; he always is when he gets wasted- but this time was different." Myra frowned, "one minute I was being the dutiful friend, comforting and reassuring; the next…. Well, I will spare the intimate details."

Beth was staring into empty space, "I wonder what happened?"

"We had sex…" Myra stated.

"Not that." Beth frowned, "I mean, I wonder what happened between my parents…"

Myra shrugged, and was about to offer some words of comfort when the cell barrier suddenly shimmered and two fleshy creatures appeared and glanced at Beth and Myra.

"Isn't there supposed to be the one prisoner? Why are there two of these ugly ass things in here?" It was pointing a strange device at them. Myra recognised it as a fourth-dimension bio-scanner.

They were scanning to determine who their true prisoner was.

"That one." The first fleshy creature pointed at Myra.

"What do we do with the other one?" The second creature frowned.

"Send her back." The other creature muttered irritably.

Beth suddenly let out a cry of surprise as the alien pointed the scanner at her and pressed a button. She was instantly gone.

Myra climbed to her feet and let the creatures cuff her with an electro-cuffing device. She let them lead her out of the cell.

"What's going to happen to this one?" The second creature, clearly inexperienced.

"She's being executed." The first creature was smiling, "I mean, it's not every day someone steals something from here and collapses multiple timelines. She thought she was going to stabilise it by putting the damned thing in her _leg_." It was suddenly wobbling as laughter reverberated through it. "that only resulted in countless versions of herself to be destroyed. But it was still only a matter of time before the crystal destroyed _everything_."

"What do we use these things for?" the second monster asked in awe.

The first shrugged, "you know that little light that comes on when you open your fridge?"

The first monster nodded.

"Yeah, that's what they do."

Myra glanced about as they entered a building. This was where they were going to execute her; it was an ominous grey building.

"Why do we have to take her all this way, if we are just going to kill her?" The second testicle creature asked in confusion, "Wouldn't it be wiser to just shoot her in the cell, and prevent any badly planned rescue missions?"

"what are you talking about?" The first fleshy creature frowned, "This is the Fourth dimension! Aint _nobody_ getting rescued from the fourth dimension!" They suddenly entered a large, white room, with a horizontal translucent barrier. Myra was abruptly shoved inside by the creatures.

"Now we just need to destroy the crystal, in this specialised containment and everything will be hunky-dory." The first creature stated, and started pressing buttons on it, "Oh, and this is how we execute idiots like this."

The containment pod suddenly started glowing, "ten, nine, eight."

Myra closed her eyes. This was it.

"Did someone order a conveniently-timed rescue mission?" Rick's voice sounded smug.

Myra's eyes snapped open in time to see Rick, Morty and Ben shoot the creatures down.

"..four, three…"

Rick slapped his hand on the control panel and the countdown ceased, "Man, I was clenching that entire time." He smirked and disabled the containment barrier, "Talk about riding by the hair on my balls."

Ben let out an irritated grunt as an alarm began roaring, "We need to get out of here."

Myra shook her head, "You should have just left me here- they were going to destroy the crystal."

"And _kill_ you." Rick frowned, suddenly grasping her by the forearm to drag her.

Myra snatched her am back and scowled, "I can't be like you, Rick; I can't think of only myself in this situation."

Rick scowled at her, "Look, I know you think it's some great, noble act to sacrifice yourself to save an infinite amount of lives; but right now, I really don't have time for this shit."

"Perhaps we could alter the containment field and remove her leg. I mean, we can grow you a new leg; a better leg." Ben suggested.

"Not a bad idea, sonny boy." Rick said, his eyes probing Myra, "I can make you a new leg, or a new clone. Either way is fine."

"Then I am staying here." Myra frowned.

Rick was frowning at her, his arms folded across his chest stubbornly, "Don't be cute; it doesn't suit you."

"Can w-w-we do _something_ already?" Morty's tone was strained, "I'm pretty sure we don't have time for whatever games you two are playing right now!"

Ben suddenly stepped forward and pressed something against her arm. She felt a surge of electrical energy jerk through her nerves.

"You…. Little…prick…" she muttered before the world went black.

* * *

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	8. Chapter 8

"This isn't a good idea." Myra murmured, backing away slightly as Rick started towards her. She suddenly felt her backside pressed against the workbench, her eyes focused on Rick as the devilishly devious smirk curved his mouth.

"And why not?" He virtually purred the words at her, dripping with seduction as he neared her. He was suddenly mere inches away from her, she could feel the heat from his body radiating her personal space. His eyes glimmered with amusement, knowing that he was affecting her.

"Beth and Dianne…." Myra murmured through veiled lids as she looked up at Rick, feeling every bit as aroused as she had whenever he teased her relentlessly during their college years.

They had been having intimate affairs for just over a week. After Rick's drunken bender, he had said something about the 'seal being broken' and had repeatedly been successful at getting her into bed. Not that they had been using a bed…

Rick continued to smirk at her, "Beth is in Froopy Land. I have no idea where Dianne is these days. Can't say I really care, at the moment." He leant down, practically whispering the words against her mouth; daring her to move the extra millimetre.

As turned on as he made her; she didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

She felt a smirk curve her lips, "Guess you have the house all to _yourself_ then." She murmured against him, her eyes taunting his. "I should leave." She whispered, starting to edge sideways to step around him.

"Oh no you don't!" Rick grinned, hoisting her up so her ass hit the workbench table, "Y-y-you've been teasing me all damn day. Y-you think I'm going to let you off that easy, you can think again." He smirked, pressing himself against her.

Myra couldn't help but to grin in enthusiasm, "Oh _I've _been teasing _you?" _She said incredulously, "I was covered in Gromflomite blood and guts most of the time, while you berated me for being too slow on the trigger!" She laughed, feigning to strain against him as he started to tear at her clothes.

He chuckled at her, grasping her by the waist to press her even closer to his hardness, "L-look, you've gotten me all worked up here."

Myra smirked at him, "Oh, Rick Sanchez." She feigned a sigh, "Sometimes I just want you to _beg_ me to fuck you."

Rick's expression was full of amusement, "Baby, I-I'd dip my nutsack in cryogenic liquid a…nd shatter it with a hammer."

"Beg." Myra grinned, her eyes teasing as he looked at her in humour.

Rick smirked, "We both know I don't- "

"_Beg_." Myra grinned wider.

Rick attempted to pout, but couldn't help but smile, "_Please_." The word was strained, unconvincing.

"Please _what_?" Myra smirked, leaning against his body, her fingers expertly unlatched his belt buckle as a reward for his pathetic attempt.

"Please, just stop fucking teasing me!" Rick said, tearing her shirt open. Buttons flew everywhere. His hands began working furiously, until she was miraculously naked.

It was over far too briefly.

They were both huffing, despite the abruptness of it.

"Daddy?" Beth's voice was suddenly calling from inside the house.

"Shit!" Rick snapped into action, swiftly pulling his trousers back on. He headed towards the door, "Be there in a sec, sweetie!" he snatched up his shirt and pulled it on over his head.

Myra was hastily attempting to tug her clothes back on, looking around at the buttons everywhere, in a fluster, as she shrugged her shirt on. Where the hell had her bra gone?

"Is aunty Myra here? I could hear her yelling." Beth's voice was close.

The door handle rattled suddenly. Locked.

Rick glanced at Myra and her open shirt and then reached inside the nearby dryer and threw one of Dianne's blouses at her. She caught it without hesitation and pulled it on, just was Rick opened the door.

"Aunty Myra!" little seven-year-old Beth's blue eyes lit up the moment she saw the flustered older woman. She raced towards her and threw her arms around her legs in a crushing embrace. Her face suddenly screwed up slightly, "It smells funny in here."

Myra and Rick exchanged an awkward glance before Beth started dragging Myra away, "You've _got_ to see what my daddy made me yesterday!" She was grinning, "It's an _indestructible_ baseball bat!" She smiled impossibly wide, "I want to see if I can break it against _you." _

Rick was smirking suddenly, "Now _this_ I have to see." He started following them.

* * *

Myra flittered in and out of consciousness. Everything started to come as hazy flashes as she felt an agonising pain in her leg. She could sense that she was being carried somewhere, her head whirled as she drifted on the borderline of unconsciousness once again.

"Aww, gross. Sh-she's bleeding all over me!" Morty complained anxiously.

There was an alarm sounding, and flashes and explosions. What had happened?

"Quite your whining, Morty!" Rick blurted irritably in response, "I've cauterised it; sh-she's not even bleeding anymore!"

"Just admit you've forgotten where you parked the damned thing." Ben's voice sounded angry, "You had _one_ job."

"H-how i-i-is this _my_ fault?" Rick snapped, "T-t-this whole thing is clearly _your _fault!"

Darkness enveloped Myra's mind once more.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed before she started to regain consciousness. Everything felt foggy as she became aware, drawing in a heavy breath as she started to open her eyes. Her entire body felt weighed down as she peered around her unfamiliar surroundings.

Her eyes traced around the sci-fi room, noting the general disorganisation to the materials and inventions on the shelves around her. This was Rick's handiwork.

Myra sat up, feeling a bout of nausea. She glimpsed down at her leg, noting the pale scar above her knee where her leg had been severed by the fourth dimension technology. Although she understood fourth dimension tech worked on a vastly different scale to other dimensions; she was still surprised that something had managed to pierce her flesh. After so many decades of being seemingly impervious; she was astounded to see a scar on her own body.

"Oh, hey." Rick's voice suddenly caught her attention. He was swaying in the doorway, attempting to look indifferent, "Ben left a little while ago, s…aid something about 'more important shit to do', or some shit." He shrugged, and glimpsed at the floor, his brow suddenly furrowed in emotion.

It was only then that Myra comprehended that he was drunk. Incredulously so.

"Ugh." She grumbled, slipping out of the bed, stumbling uncoordinatedly before she reached Rick, "Please don't, not now." She said, grasping him by the shoulders to steer him.

Rick shrugged away from her grasp, "How'd y-you f..ind me?" he burped, pointing an unsteady finger at her.

Myra frowned, attempting to move him down the unfamiliar corridor. She assumed they were in Rick's subterranean workshop; she needed to sober him up. She wasn't prepared for blackout Rick's emotional blather.

She grunted, decidedly shoving past him, "There are Ricks everywhere." She frowned, her eyes tracing about for a sign of a ladder or doorway.

Rick stumbled after her, "How did _you_ find _me?"_

"Dimensional scanning isn't new tech, Rick." Myra felt her brow furrow in annoyance, "I have a micro implant in my head which allows me to detect the timelines of lifeforms at will." She was frowning as she opened a nearby door, which led to a closet. Empty alcohol bottles and beer cans poured out around her feet and she frowned even more.

"But why _me_?" Rick slurred. He sounded whiny.

"After what happened to your family on our original timeline, I was certain you hadn't stuck around." Myra murmured, stepping through into a more open room with liquid suspension chambers. She spotted a ladder and she started towards it, knowing it would lead to the garage.

"Y-y-you came looking for _me?"_ Rick's voice was strained, emotional. He slumped to the floor, almost seemingly defeated. "I-i-I went looking for _you_. For _so long_." He let out a lengthy, anguished belch, "you _vanished_."

Myra resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "you want to know where I was all this time?" She asked, whirling around to meet his sad eyes. He nodded his head and she sighed, "Fine. I was the one place I knew you would never look." She said pointedly, watching as he glanced at her in interest. "I was at my _parent's_ place."

Rick let out a shocked gasp, "y-you diabolical piece of shit."

"Oh, I may as well tell you _everything_, considering you are so blind drunk, you'll never remember!" She scowled angrily, "I left because I found out I was pregnant." She frowned, "I was terrified. Things had been bad with Dianne for over a year, little Beth was eight..." She felt her brows pinch together in emotion. "And I was under the delusional impression that I was _in love_ with you." Her words became choked as her throat seized with emotion. "I wanted you to have a fighting chance with Dianne and Beth; that would never be possible with me in your life. So, I left. I had the the infinite at my fingertips with the portal gun; I travelled extensively before Ben was born. Forever looking over my shoulder, terrified that if I saw you, even just a _version _of you; I wouldn't be able to stay away." She looked away, ashamed of how emotional she was getting.

She hastily wiped away a stray tear and peered at Rick, who looked distraught. He was starting into empty space. He stood up shakily for a moment and snatched his portal gun out of his lab coat pocket.

"I-I wanted to erase you fr…om my memory." He slurred, swaying on the spot as he typed in some co-ordinates. He shot open a portal and gestured for her to step through. "Whenever I think about doing just that, I like to pay these guys a little visit."

She gave him a sceptical frown and stepped through the portal. She glanced around at the padded cell room, where a collection of Ricks were huddled, babbling incoherently. One looked at them and threw something brown and slushy at them.

"Is that _shit_?" Myra frowned.

"Y-y-yeah, that guy really likes to throw shit at people." Rick slurred thickly, "these are just a handful of the versions of myself wh-who were s…tupid enough to attempt to wipe you out of their brains."

Myra glanced around at the Ricks, who were clearly not 'all there' and felt a pang of sadness.

She looked at Rick, who was looking at the others with a solemn expression, "Y-y-you were so integrated in our life, s..o important to all our development and intelligence, th-that they literally made themselves virtually brain-dead when they attempted the wipe." He shook his head in pity, taking his flask out of his pocket and taking a sip "Kinda makes me won….der."

Myra felt a sudden pang of pity at the misery in Rick's eyes. She felt her anger subside completely and she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "Let's get you home."

Rick suddenly heaved and puked on her feet suddenly; she cringed against the gooey warmth.

"For fucks sake, Rick!" She muttered irritably, snatching his portal gun off him as he began to wipe his mouth with his sleeve. She opened a portal to Rick's bedroom and roughly shoved him through. Myra glimpsed over her shoulder, at the other Ricks, one last time before she left.

Rick was already passed out in his meagre bed. She shook her head in disbelief and dropped his portal gun beside him on the mattress. She wiped her legs with a few of his shirts from his nearby drawer and headed down towards the garage to throw them in the washing machine.

Beth was sitting at the dining table, looking through an old photo album, while sipping an over-filled glass of wine. She glanced up as Myra entered the room.

"Ugh, what is that smell?" Beth asked, cringing as she covered her nose.

"The dreaded contents of your father's stomach." Myra frowned, "Don't worry, I am going to throw this in the wash before I leave." She said, reaching the garage door.

Beth suddenly stood up, "Leave?" She looked confused as she followed Myra "why are you leaving?"

Myra threw the shirts in the washing machine and started to add the detergent, "Many reasons." She let out a lengthy sigh, "But mostly because I have concluded the business that I needed your father for. There is no reason for me to loiter any further." She shrugged indifferently.

"But I thought…I mean, you two _are_ …. _friends_?" Beth stressed the word sceptically, "Despite everything, I thought you'd be staying longer."

Myra let out a snort of amusement and glimpsed at Beth as she started the wash cycle, "It wasn't long ago you were calling me a whore and telling your father to pack his shit."

Beth had a strained expression on her face, "Look, I'm not saying that I forgive you two for what you did. But you don't need to use me as an excuse if you want to run away." She forced a smile.

Myra frowned, "I'm not running away; we don't have any need for each other." She shrugged indifferently, "It would be illogical to stay without justification."

"So, you _want_ to leave?" Beth asked with a dubious smile.

The question baffled Myra. On one hand she still felt there was unfinished business. On the other hand, there was nothing Rick would be able to gain out of that. Besides, he probably wanted her gone, after everything.

Besides, she had to make sure that Ben wasn't doing anything stupid again.

Myra let out an exasperated sigh, "I may look young on the outside, but I am too old for this." She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

Beth was peering at her, looking every ounce like her mother. Her arms were folded across her chest, almost in defence as she waited for an appropriate answer. Myra wasn't even certain she had one.

"What would you like me to say?" Myra asked, feeling pressured, "Would you like me to confess some undying affection for your father; do you want me to try and fix the alcoholic wreck he has become?"

"Mother!" Ben suddenly burst into the garage, stumbling and falling to the floor. He laughed drunkenly and stared up at her with a lop-sided grin, "You're awake! Why didn't daddy tell me you were awake?" He complained, struggling to regain his balance as he stood up.

"_Daddy?_" Beth and Myra exchanged confused glances.

"Didn't you hear?" Summer walked into the garage, she waved her cell phone at them with an amused grin, "Grandpa Rick and Uncle Ben bonded while Myra was out cold." She gestured to her phone, "Look, I even made a montage."

She held the video up for them to see.

It started out with Ben and Rick yelling at each other while they were drinking in the garage, both of them covered in what Myra assumed was her blood. Another video showed them laughing drunkenly and stumbling around the backyard playing catch with an old baseball invention Rick had made. Then they both pulled down Jerry's pants and pushed him down the stairs and were pointing and laughing.

"This little piece of here is my fucking _son_!" Rick was slurring, rubbing ben's head with his knuckles.

The video ended, and Myra glanced at Ben, who was sobbing suddenly, "That… was… _beautiful_."

Myra started laughing.

Ben wasn't one to ever drink. To see him so intoxicated and emotional was somewhat refreshing. Seeing him getting along with Rick made her heart clench in emotion. It was strange, yet welcome.

It was some hours later, after Ben and the rest of the Smith family were all fast asleep that Myra found herself looking down at her old portal gun as she sat in the garage.

She had made minor repairs to the gun over the years, teeny, insignificant adjustments; but she had never been able to fully comprehend how it worked. She knew Rick's portal fluid formula, had been successful in replicating it- but without knowing the mechanics behind the gun, she had been unable to recreate one herself.

Ben, on the other hand….

He had taken it apart _one_ time and had instantly been able to duplicate, with minor changes. He was definitely the fruit of his father's loins.

Myra shook her head, and glanced up as the door opened.

It was Rick.

"Oh hey…" He said, giving her a strange look, "wasn't sure if you would still be here…"

"I've been internally debating that all evening." Myra smile grimly, "Seemed a bit rude to just up and leave."

"Like you did thirty years ago?" Rick added sourly.

Myra wanted to shake her head in disbelief. He truly wouldn't remember anything she had told him when he was drunk. She wondered if he would still remember bonding with their son. She doubted it.

She let out a lengthy sigh, "I guess I _have_ overstayed my welcome." She said, pushing her portal gun aside and standing up. She had every intention of leaving it behind.

Rick watched her with an irritated expression on his face, "Well, I-I hate to break it to you, but you ca….n't leave." He frowned, walking over to her. He was so close, she could smell him. He had showered recently, which surprised her.

Myra's breath hitched as he suddenly pressed his body against hers, before she realised he was only doing it to grab something behind her. She started to frown in disappointment, despite herself as he stepped back and held something up to show her.

"Can't leave without this."

Myra looked at the foil wrapper in disbelief, "A condom wrapper?" She frowned at him.

Rick shrugged, "From the first time, we… you know."

Myra snorted and rolled her eyes, "No it's not!" She shoved him, feeling some tension disappear.

Rick shrugged, "for all you know, it could be." He snickered and tossed it aside.

"I don't even want to know _why_ you have a random condom wrapper laying around." Myra smirked.

"Keeps my family on their toes." Rick shrugged. "I like to leave them around; l-l-like little unwelcome presents; lets them know grandpa Rick gets laid."

"_Despite_ his aversion to 'wrap his dick in strangling latex'." Myra added smugly, "I bet you have all kinds of penicillin on tap these days."

"Ooh, y-you know how to make venereal disease sound sexy." Rick grinned slyly, leaning towards her.

Myra placed her hand on his chest to stop him from coming closer, "_If_ we are going to do this, y'know- for old time's sake. You know what I want to hear."

Rick smirked devilishly at her, "really? You _REALLY _want me to say that, right _now_?" he asked, attempting to push past her strength to press himself against her.

Myra bit her lip slightly and smiled, "I can assure you that _every_ inch of my body looks just like it did thirty years ago- apart from my new nifty calf and shin." She purred, leaning back against the workbench.

"A-a-and I can assure you that mine, definitely does _not!" _He smirked at her, "I mean, I-I'm a certified GILF now. I have a whole fanbase and everything."

"Mmm." Myra smirked eyeing him up and down, "I still need you to say it."

Rick let out an annoyed grumble and sighed, "Fine." He attempted to give her a serious expression, "_Please_, baby, c-c-can you _please_ fuck my brains out, just like the good old days?"

Myra pretended to shudder, "Oooh, still turns me on." She grinned playfully, slipping her backside up so she was seated the workbench. "I spent many a lonely night pleasuring myself to the mental image of you begging."

"I bet you did, you filthy bitch." He grinned, grasping her suddenly.

To her surprise, he didn't start tearing her clothes off, as he had always done. Instead, his bony, ice-cold hands slipped beneath her shirt, sliding over the contours of the flesh on her back. He pulled her closer to him, leaning down and pressing his mouth against hers.

In their younger days, they had virtually never kissed. It was something Myra had actively avoided, at the best of times. It felt far too intimate and made her feel uncomfortable.

Yet now, she returned his kiss with seething, hot enthusiasm. Her hands wound around his neck and drew him closer; thankful at the fact he had brushed his teeth. Her carnal desires for Rick, she had assumed were long-gone, were instantaneously rekindled.

"Rick…" Myra said breathlessly, momentarily breaking apart, "The door…"

"Fuck the door." Rick muttered dismissively.

They panted, still holding each other, almost in disbelief. After decades apart, they seemingly still had it.

"oooh- ok." Jerry was in the doorway. He looked uncomfortable, "I-I-I should leave?" he waited for a response, "is that a _yes?"_ he looked extremely lost and confused.

"Fuck off, Jerry!" Rick and Myra snapped in unison.

* * *

**As always, comments, follows & faves are greatly appreciated :D  
Smut version of this chapter can be found on Ao3**


	9. Chapter 9

It had been a few months since Myra had called it quits with their living arrangements. She had engrossed herself with college study, even managing to write a pretty boring paper on energy containment that had a few government officials knocking on their door.

She had made so many excuses not go on adventures with him; something clearly had her panties in a twist.

Rick was mostly sitting around the house, attempting to make some sort of headway on his portal gun invention; he was certain that would be enough to settle Myra down. Just when he thought he made some successes, something would fail and he was back to square one.

"For fuck's sake!" He snapped as another gun exploded on the table before him. He threw his goggles down on the ground in frustration, wiping the ashen residue from his face.

There was a sudden knock on the basement door and Rick glanced up at Myra, who looked more dolled up than usual. She was wearing a flattering splash of makeup, which framed her silver eyes perfectly. Her dress was contoured to the slight curves of her lean frame; flattering and hugging it enticingly.

Rick found himself grinning, "_Finally_\- I mean i-it's been forever…" he was unzipping his pants in keen anticipation.

Myra held up his hand and stopped him, "Actually… I have a date."

"A date?" Rick paused in his tracks, visibly confused by the sudden development, "I don't mean to sound so perplexed by this…_news_." Rick snapped in irritation, "But since when do you _date_? Y-y-you've never even had a boyfriend before." He stated bitterly.

Myra seemingly ignored his outburst, "I'm not too sure when I will get back; please don't blow the house up while I am gone." She turned on her heel.

"Myra!" Rick suddenly called out up the stairs, halting her in her tracks. She stared at him with an odd expression Rick couldn't quite comprehend; somehow reflecting every emotion imaginable. "W-whoever that guy is; you're too smart for him. Stay here- help me with the portal gun; w-w-wed can go on a good old adventure…"

"Try to get some sleep." She murmured to him, before she opened the front door and vanished.

Rick stared at the closed door, feeling extremely confused by the array of emotions that were suddenly overwhelming him. He stormed upstairs, wandering towards the liquor cabinet Myra had insisted on getting; more for decoration than anything. He threw open the glass doors, snatching up as many bottles as he could carry.

He took them all down into the basement, opening bottle after bottle and gulping them down as he worked on solving the portal gun issue once and for all. This was his ticket- this was his solution to all of his problems. If he could just solve this one, fucking thing; all the little pieces would fall neatly into place.

Rick worked with a crazed frenzy; suddenly enlightened in his state of intoxication.

An hour later, Rick swayed on the spot, tossing aside another empty bottle that shattered to the floor. He glanced down at the creation before him, smirking with satisfaction.

"I….did it." He belched, wiping a stray strand of drool on the back of his sleeve. He pulled the trigger on his crude creation, and an unstable green portal suddenly shimmered and sparked against the wall. He was about to step through when he fell to the ground, passing out in a cold, drunken heap.

Sunlight was blazing when he opened his eyes. He shielded them with his hands in a feeble attempt to overcome the agony that was suddenly threatening to tear his head apart. He sad up, feeling extremely hungover and glimpsed around his room, his eyes finally resting on the lump beside him in bed.

Rick smiled to himself, relieved that Myra had come to her senses. He reached over, "Good morning." He pulled back the covers slightly, confused by the mattered mess of blonde hair.

Dianne turned around and stretched wearily, "Good morning." She replied with a pretty smile, "Gee it must be _afternoon_…" She sat up, surprised by the daylight blaring into the room, "to be fair, we were up for an extremely long period last night." She grinned to him devilishly.

"Yeah…" Rick rubbed his head, feeling confused, "I guess we were?"

Dianne was suddenly up, pulling her clothes on, "I'll have to leave; I've probably already missed a class or two." She shook her head in a sudden flurry, "I hope I still have time to turn in that assignment." She was frowning.

"Uh… good luck, I guess?" Rick said, sitting up in bed to watch her.

Dianne was suddenly smiling at him, "You're not really good at this whole thing, are you?"

Rick could only stare at her blankly in response.

"Is Myra the only girl you have ever been with?" She asked, suddenly cocking her brow in curiosity. After a few minutes of silence Dianne chuckled, "I will take that stunned silence as a yes. Look, sometimes people have sex, no strings attached- that is completely fine. But we had so much fun last night I would be terribly upset if this was a single occurrence." She finished pulling her blouse on, "So, I hope to hear from you; but if I don't- that is understandable; you obviously have some deep-rooted issues stemming from a co-dependence with Myra anyway."

Rick was frowning at her monologue, "I'm _not_ co-dependent."

"I also don't doubt that in the slightest." Dianne was shrugging at him, suddenly stepping towards the door, "Whatever the case is- call me, don't call me." She twirled around and practically bounced out the door.

Rick heard the front door open and Dianne was suddenly greeting Myra pleasantly. They exchanged a few small-talk peasantries and then the front door closed again. Rick could hear Myra heading up the stairs towards his room.

She appeared in the doorway, wearing her lab outfit. She had clearly been in class all morning.

"Nice work there, Sanchez." She said, leaning in the doorway, "fun evening?"

Rick was frowning at her suddenly, "Ugh, stop talking. My head i-i-is so close to exploding right now."

Myra was smirking at him suddenly, "WHOOPS, MY BAD!" She said in a loud voice and Rick cradled his head.

"Ugh you bitch!" He complained, wincing against the pain. He stared at her through a pained expression. She looked exhausted; her eyes were sporting dark circles and her hair looked unkempt.

"Looks like Dianne isn't the only one who is enduring the 'walk of shame' today." Rick said, squinting against the light.

Myra stared at him momentarily, "I'll make some hangover remedy." She said, turning and walking away.

Rick felt more confused than ever. What the hell was going on with her?

* * *

Years passed.

After a freak accident trying to show Myra his portal gun breakthrough, they resumed heading out on adventures. Rick revelled in her indestructible epidermis and strength; using her as a living shield on many occasions.

Although she had been expelled from the campus for the explosion incident, Myra was allowed to finish her degree with another college. She did so begrudgingly, more to keep her parents happy then out of necessity. She also endured blind date after blind date; also her parent's doing.

Meanwhile Rick had continued to see Dianne on a somewhat permanent basis. Initially, he had continued to do so because it irritated Myra beyond words; but he had grown fond of Dianne in a way he wasn't sure he'd be able. Occasionally they would head out on their own inter-dimensional adventures; overall Rick was quite happy an contempt with the turn his life had taken.

So, after hearing that Dianne was pregnant it only seemed natural to tie the knot. They were thirty, afterall; that was what people did, right?

"I'm getting married!" Rick said, appearing before Myra, Bird Person and Squanchy in the alien space bar on planet Squanch. He was a little surprised to see Myra had beaten him there; especially because she had become the ultimate sell-out by working for the USA government.

"This is quite surprising." Bird Person said in his monotone voice, "I would have never guessed you were the type to commit to that kind of thing."

"That really makes me wanna Squanch." Squanchy frowned, "First you knock some Squanch into her and now you're _marrying_ her?"

Rick glanced at Myra who shrugged her shoulders at them, "Actually, that would be considered the most logical step on Earth." She stated, "You don't just date someone, impregnate them and _not_ marry them. It's a huge, backwards ordeal on our planet."

"_Oh yeah, congratulations, Rick; I'm so thrilled for your happiness Rick_!" Rick muttered in a feigned, joyous tone, before taking a seat at the table next to Myra and snatching her drink off her. "You're planning the Batchelor party, by the way."

Myra smirked at him, "That would be a huge miscalculation of my abilities to make it the most sick and twisted night of depravity."

"Y-y-you'll ma…nage." Rick belched, suddenly frowning at Bird Person, "I-is it just me, or does Bird Person look the same as he did when we first met him?"

"My species ages at what you call a 'snail's crawl'." He said, "I will appear younger than you for the rest of your life."

Rick turned to Myra, who was scrawling on a notepad suddenly, "Guess you can join this one, then." He snickered, jerking his thumb in her direction.

"I would be quite happy to join her, however all attempts and advances have been rebutted." Bird Person stated.

"Join the club, we've got plenty of Squanch." Squanchy chuckled, tossing back another shot.

"I told you guys- I've already had to tread on eggshells with the future Mrs Sanchez because of my previous relations with Rick," She gestured at him, "And I have absolutely no desire to settle down; so sorry that rules both of you out for physical relations"

"She's l-l-like a tooth-fairy, but for coitus." Rick was smirking, "She just f…lutters from guy to guy and disappears in the darkness of the night. Occasionally leaving a pair o-o-of panties, or a bra behind as a present."

Myra shot him a look, "You've just earnt yourself a tea party instead of a bachelor party." She smirked, "Better yet, I will invite Dianne."

Rick cringed, "She'd probably enjoy herself." He tossed back another drink, glancing at the waiter as they waddled around and restocked their drinks again. "So, tomorrow work for everyone?"

"_Tomorrow_?" Squanchy and Myra chimed in unison.

"That is most abrupt." Bird Person stated.

"Y-yeah, Dianne really wants to get things moving before she shows too much." He shrugged, "Her parents are kinda anal about that k…ind of thing."

"I'll make it work." Myra said, grabbing up a shot glass, "Here's to the most unpredictable asshole in the entire universe." She said, raising it up for a toast. "May you have many years of happiness in this new adventure."

They all clinked glasses together and threw back shots.

Myra smirked, jerking her thumb to the stage area where all their Flesh Curtains music equipment sat, waiting for them, "Now you guys get your asses up there and blow the house down."

Rick smirked at her, climbing to his feet, "Y-you're going to regret those words, Morty." He started towards the stage.

Myra glimpsed at Bird Person and Squanchy as they followed after him, feeling a sudden sense of loss. Everything was going to change, and she suspected that Rick had absolutely no idea what he had signed up for.

* * *

Even more years passed when Myra found herself sitting on the pavement outside Rick's place, sitting with young Beth.

"Mom and dad have been fighting a lot." Little Beth's eyes wandered towards the house where they could hear Rick and Dianne arguing up a storm. She sat, her head hanging slightly as her ice-cream melted onto the sidewalk.

Myra felt a pang of guilt that she would never be able to alleviate. Her silvery eyes wandered to her own ice-cream; also melting and dripping away onto the pavement as the shouting increased. Why did she have to go and make things so complicated? Why was she aiding in ruining a family?

"Sometimes mother's and father's fight…" Myra said, her voice a mere murmur.

"This is _different_." Beth said, her tone was strained. She looked up at Myra with a pained expression, "Mom doesn't want dad to be your friend anymore. She doesn't want you visiting us."

Myra felt another pang of emotion. As much as she would hate to stay away from Rick; perhaps it was for the best. Things were getting extremely rocky lately and Dianne appeared far more crazed than usual. Rick was attempting to blow the whole thing off, as though he was free to do whatever he wanted; ignoring the consequences.

The front door to the house was thrown open suddenly and Dianne appeared. She had dark circles underneath her eyes as she strode out towards them, Beth's indestructible baseball bat in hand. She forced a smile as she neared them.

"Hey Beth- how about you go and play in your room for a little bit. Mommy just needs to have a little chat with Myra." Her eyes were full of weariness; as though she hadn't slept in days.

Beth looked from her mother, to Myra who forced a smile and nodded reassuringly, "Go have fun- Mommy and I will have a quick talk." She watched as Beth hesitantly wandered towards the house and then Myra climbed to her feet.

"What's up, Dianne?" Myra asked, attempting to keep it casual.

"You need to leave my family alone." Dianne said, pointing the baseball bat at her, "That _thing_ you had with Rick is over." She said sternly, "My relationship has been treading water for a while now; that much has never been in doubt- but you are making everything so much _worse!"_

Dianne was speaking the very words of Myra's subconscious. Hearing everything out loud made her feel like absolute garbage. As she stared back into Dianne's fiery blue eyes she felt a pang of respect for the woman. Myra could have easily swatted her like a fly, had she the desire.

Yet Dianne stood unwavering before her, baseball bat in hand.

Myra nodded her head and turned on her heel to leave when a portal opened up behind her.

"Hey Morty, you want to go on a little adventure?" Rick was grinning. He was standing in a gimp outfit, a leather whip poised towards her.

Dianne strode forward, "You can't just portal away every, single time we are having an argument, Rick!" She shouted.

"Holy shit, Dianne!" Rick said, pulling the gimp mask off his head, "So sorry, I didn't know you'd be here…" He sounded insincere and sarcastic, his eyes darting towards the baseball bat Dianne raised towards him. "Whatchya doing there, honey?"

"No more adventures!" Dianne snapped, swinging the bat at him. He ducked out of the way, "No more Myra!" She swung the bat again, whirling around as Rick dove behind Myra.

The bat collided with Myra's body with a thump; each unyielding. Dianne dropped the bat as the force jarred her hands painfully.

Dianne looked up, tears welling in her eyes, "Or no more _us."_ She said, her pretty features contorting with pain.

She was suddenly striding back towards the house.

Rick cleared his throat, whipping out his portal gun and waving it towards Myra.

"So, adventure?" Rick was grinning, despite what had just happened.

"Yeah, sure thing." Myra said, watching Rick grin impossibly wider and shoot open a portal.

"Great, you're really going to love this one, Morty!" he snorted to himself and stepped through the portal.

Myra whipped out her own gun, swiftly opening up a portal of her own and vanished inside. She was sure to leave an impossible portal trail for him to follow, going from place to place; before she opened one, final portal and stepped through.

She glanced up at the large mansion that she appeared in-front of, feeling a bout of anguish as she reached into her pocket.

She withdrew a piece of paper with smudged ink writing. Test results from the doctor she had seen the day before. Why she didn't just do things at home to find out the results earlier; she would never know. But there it was, in big, bold letters.

She was pregnant.

She stuffed the paper back inside her pocket and stepped up to the front door of the house, pressing the doorbell; her head hung in absolute defeat.

The door opened to reveal her mother, looking older and somehow even more stern than she had when Myra was younger. She was cradling a glass of brandy in one hand, her eyes narrowed as she glanced at Myra.

"What have you done, _now_?" She said, her tone sour.

* * *

"I'm leaving." Myra said with determination as she pulled her clothes on and glimpsed over her shoulder at Rick. Despite being old and rickety- he certainly had the stamina of a younger man.

"Yeah, wh….atever" Rick belched and took a swig from his flask. He was laying on his crude bed, completely naked, his eyes staring at the ceiling with indifference as Myra gathered her scattered clothes.

"I mean it, Rick." Myra huffed, struggling to find her pants, "Where the hell did I throw them."

"I-I-I don't really want to shatter your illusion of self-control; but I-I-I'm really doubting that we're through here." Rick said, sitting up, "Call it vapid, carnal desire or plain old familiarity; but w-w-we're just insanely compatible in bed." He said matter-of-fact, "so sure; leave and go get your head on straight again; y-y-you'll be back."

Myra snatched her trousers from behind a large pile of boxes and started to pull them on. She turned to face Rick as she buttoned them up, "You're probably right." She shrugged, "But for the moment I am done; I need to get out of here. These past few weeks have been quite entertaining, but I am in dire need to return to…"

"Return to _what_, exactly?" Rick frowned, "B-Ben's practically living here now; he's taking over my fucking garage. He's getting i-i-it all germy and it smells really _strange_ in there now."

"It's called an air-freshener, Rick. Most people don't like the stale stench of alcohol and various bodily fluids, stinking up the place." Myra was frowning as she stared at him. She let out an exasperated sigh after a few moments, "I don't know what we're doing."

"Just don't think about it." Rick muttered, his tone was sour, "W-w-why does everyone feel the need to label everything?"

"I was taking a shower this morning and Jerry just waltzed right in and started taking a _shit_ on the toilet!" Myra threw her hands in the air.

"W-well to be fair, you didn't exactly lock the bathroom door." Rick snickered at her, "but hey, i-if you're so desperate to fish for excuses to leave; good job y-you're really scraping the bottom of that barrel."

She stood, suddenly feeling defenceless and placed her hands on her hips, "You don't think I will do it, do you?"

"Oh, I _know_ you won't" He said in a challenging tone.

There was an abrupt knock on the door, and it suddenly flew open.

"Hey guys there's something you two really need to come and see.." It was Summer. She suddenly held up her hand to shield her view of the naked Rick, "PANTS!" She snapped.

Rick muttered irritably and pulled some pants on. They all hurriedly made their way towards the lounge room where a news program was being broadcast on the inter-dimensional TV station.

_"…the Galactic Federation's President seen here, addressing the conference." _The Gromflomite news anchor's voice hummed, and the screen flickered over to the footage of Tammy, smirking into the camera.

_"This is to the terrorist known as Rick Sanchez ."_ Her expression was menacing as she smiled at the camera, _"We're coming for you." _

Rick rolled his eyes and switched the TV off, "Ugh, you guys interrupted me for _that?_"

"Dianne…?" Myra's eyes were staring at the blank screen with disbelief. She was certain of what she had seen.

Rick stared at her with a quizzical expression, "W-what the hell are you talking about?" he frowned, his eyes wandered to his family, who were all looking at Myra for answers.

* * *

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	10. Chapter 10

Ben glimpsed at the screen before him, in Rick's garage, with a blank expression. His silvery eyes were continuously wandering over the alien words as he read, almost hypnotised as his brain comprehended them. Rick should have made better attempts at keeping his personal logs secure; he obviously doubted everyone's capabilities at hacking into his system.

His father had been on some questionable adventures- some with little, or no objective behind them. Yet the true reasoning for Ben's investigation eluded him; he wanted the true, deeply personal logs- he wanted to know all the nitty-gritty details behind Rick's relationship with his mother.

Had everything been so, completely meaningless to his father?

Ben let out an exasperated sigh and glimpsed around the subterranean workshop with little interest. Rick was as disorganised as his mother had described. After all the years of over-estimating his father's significance he was utterly disappointed he had been exactly as his mother had explained.

His eyes snapped around to the hatch on the roof as it started to open. He could hear a muffled argument between his mother and father and he spun his chair around to face their direction.

"…I-I can't believe you." Rick shook his head, "A-are you really going to make some horribly fabricated tale on how all psychotic bitches remind you of Dianne?" Rick's voice was filled with irritation as he slipped down the ladder and landed on his feet.

"I'm in no way saying that its _our_ Dianne." Myra snapped, sliding down and joining him, "We both know that is completely impossible…"

"Understatement." Rick muttered, turning around and meeting Ben's gaze, "W-w-what the hell are you doing?"

"Nothing of significance." Ben frowned back at him, "May I say, I am _absolutely _thrilled to see that you two are arguing."

"W-we aren't arguing." Rick rolled his eyes at Ben, and folded his arms across his chest defensively, "Can't two people h…ave a loud discussion without people assuming the worst?"

Myra strode forward, stepping between Ben and Rick, "Ben, I know that you have intel on all things Federation. That was one of the things you were working on before you decided to steal the crystal." Her eyes were intense as she stared into his, "I know that you have detailed information of their rebuild after Rick teleported the Citadel into the prison."

Ben glimpsed at Rick's annoyed face over his mother's shoulder, and then back to his mother's face, "I have extensive data on their rebuild."

"Y-y-your mother is under the delusional impression that a version of my deceased wife i-i-is inside the body of a girl and is out to get me."

Ben scratched his chin, deep in thought as he looked from his mother to his father, "The girl they call 'Tammy'?"

Rick's eyes were suddenly blazing with disbelief, "Don't tell me y-y-you're in on t-this joke?"

Ben found his mouth curving into a slight smirk at his father's annoyance, "Don't worry- she's not a Dianne." He said, turning back to the computer screen behind him, "Though there are some details I thought that you would be more interested in." He clicked away on the keyboard, accessing his own, secure server, and flicking a file open on the screen. "The location of Squanchy and Bird Person."

"Bird Person is dead- I-I-I saw that with my own two eyes." Rick scowled, shoving past Myra to lean over Ben's shoulder to stare at the screen.

Ben enlarged a series of pictures, showing the resurrected form of his parents' friend. "He goes by the name 'Phoenix Person'." He shook his head, "He has undergone some reprogramming, though he would not be a lost cause to recover; if you wished."

Rick's expression was stern as he visibly weighed up the situation in his mind, "A-and what about Squanchy?" He asked, his jaw clenching in irritation.

Ben tapped away on the keyboard and enlarged another file, this time showing Squanchy inside a reinforced prison barrier. He was in his beastly form, pounding away at the wall in fury. "In the secure facility on Guanta Mo Grey."

Myra stepped forward then, leaning the opposite side of Rick, "We _have_ to get them out of there."

Rick stood up straight suddenly, shrugging her off, "I-I-it doesn't matter; If I want to see those assholes again all I have to do is jump to another timeline where that Bitch didn't ruin everything." He frowned, taking a drink from his flask.

"It's not as simple as that- and you know it." Myra scowled at him. "If we were in their position they wouldn't _hesitate_ to come to our aid." She shook her head at him, "The _old_ Rick wouldn't think twice about saving them."

Rick frowned sourly and turned away from them, "L-like I keep on saying; nothing matters." He took another drink from his flask and let out a loud belch as he walked towards the hatch.

Myra screwed her face up at him and then turned to Ben, "Do you have a secure path to get into the prison facility?"

"We can teleport straight there, but the guarding tech there is pretty fail-proof." Ben was shaking his head at her, "There are a few methods we could discuss before we get there. I have one particular plan I think will be quite effective."

Myra nodded her head, "I have no idea where to even begin with Bird Person." She was shaking her head, glimpsing over her shoulder as Rick slammed the hatch closed behind him.

"He is truly dis-likeable, isn't he?" Ben frowned up at her.

Myra met his gaze and let out a weary sigh, "To the average person, yes." She glimpsed at the screen, her eyes tracing across her old friends, "But sometimes things that happen to us throughout our lives make us more and more bitter."

Ben raised his brows, glancing at the intel on the screen, "I am under the impression he has kept the happenings on your original timeline from his family."

Myra glanced over her shoulder towards the hatch once more, "That's probably for the best. He may be an asshole, but he is still rather practical; everything must eat him up inside on a daily basis."

Ben stood up, "This whole thing would definitely benefit from his inclusion."

Myra let out another sigh, "I know, but there is no forcing the matter with your father." She grabbed her portal gun out of her pocket and glanced at Ben once more, "I'm going to head home and prepare; I will see you there whenever you're done with…this." She gestured around them with a faint smile.

Ben nodded to her in response and watched as she opened a portal and left.

He turned back to the computer screen, disconnecting from his personal server and once again accessed Rick's files. He attempted several different gateways before he found one that was behind a particularly sophisticated firewall.

"Interesting.." His brows raised in intrigue. If it was something his father had actually put effort into- it would definitely be the kind of thing he was looking for.

He tapped away frantically before finally tearing down the security measures and gained access to a huge array of private information.

Ben flicked through dozens of folders, which were, surprisingly, named and organised accordingly. He found many old videos and photos of Rick and his mother as kids, teenagers and eventually adults. Even though he wanted to ignore folder labelled , 'Myra's best sex hits'; he wanted to be thorough and cringed when it proved to be the exact kind of home-made videos, of his parents, he had feared.

But then another encrypted folder within there caught his eye and he hastily cracked it and accessed it. It was a whole folder of personal video logs.

Ben glanced over his shoulder towards the hatch, before hurriedly copying all relevant data onto his personal server and then disconnected everything, leaving the boring, blank screen; how everything had been before he tampered with it.

He stood up, brushing himself off slightly before he left through his own portal; the success of his endeavours once again making his mouth curve into a slight, almost smile.

* * *

"Y-you know I-it's been several days a-and you've said nothing about Myra vanishing." Morty's voice sounded from beside Rick in the Space car.

Rick frowned, still focusing on the emptiness of space before them, "Y-yeah well, you have to expect that s-she's just going to up and disappear whenever she c…omes back into y-your life, Morty." Rick slurred irritably. "Sh-she's always so desperate to leave."

Morty was frowning at him in annoyance, "I kinda liked her; I thought she was pretty cool, y'know?"

Rick scowled angrily and waved the alcohol bottle around, "S-she _is_ cool, Morty. A-a-anyone with h…alf a brain could see that!" He was suddenly furious, "Sometimes the coolest person is in y-y-your life and you may _actually_ give some form of shit about her. T-then it's all ripped out from underneath you; leaving you in a dull existence and a failing marriage… a-a-and all you're left with is a withering husk o-of shitty, meaningless life."

Morty was shaking his head, "I-I really don't like it when you drink this much, Rick."

"A-a-and I don't like your stupid, bitchy attitude, Morty." Rick snapped back.

There was a moment of silence before Morty spoke again, "Why'd you even bother bringing me along? A-all you've done is drink and complain about how stupid everyone else is." He shook his head, "Where are we even going?"

"T-that's on a need-to-know basis, Morty." Rick grumbled, "Y-you don't need to know all aspects of every, single adventure, Morty!"

"Y-you brought me along, so you kinda have to tell me, Rick." Morty complained, "You can't just e-expect me to go charging on in without a clue."

Rick made a sour, pouting face and rolled his eyes, "Grandpa just has something t-that he ne…eds to check up on. A little facility outside of the Granola cluster. I-it's just outside of the Federation's jurisdiction so by rights I-it should be a pretty easy adventure, Morty."

Morty folded his arms across his chest, clearly unimpressed, "OK…."

There were a few silent minutes before the small planet came into view. It was perhaps a quarter the size of Earth, with luscious green flora coating it's surface. There was a huge mass of water to the North of the planet, which had a frozen coating at the Pole.

Something in Rick's lab coat pocket started bleeping loudly and Morty turned to him, half-expecting to see some kind of poorly created bomb. Rick shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out the tracker device.

"W-we're here, Morty." Rick grinned, pulling in for a landing on the planet.

"What are you tracking?" Morty frowned as the bleeping grew louder and faster.

Rick's eyes narrowed towards a cluster of mud-huts on the surface and landed the car. He swiftly shut off the beeping and turned to Morty, "Ohh, you'd really like to know that, w-wouldn't you, Morty?" He was jabbing his finger at his grandson as he opened the door and exited the car.

Morty jumped out as well, "I kinda would, yeah."

Rick stayed silent as they walked towards the little, native village. The locals were a strange, scaly pink creatures, with large, fleshy sacks dangling from their necks. They were bipedal, and were wearing simple loincloths and beaded necklaces that Morty assumed covered up their nudity. When they turned around he saw none of their clothing covered their fleshy, bright-red asses.

"Woah, looks like two giant tomatoes pressed together." Rick chortled, jerking his thumb at a native as he walked past, "Kinda like lizard-baboons, am I right?"

Morty stayed silent, feeling the eyes of the natives following them as they approached a larger hut, with an assortment of bones strung up like windchimes. There was an alien creature head mounted on a spike next to the doorway and Morty felt an uneasy shudder travel up the length of his spine.

Rick pushed aside the beaded curtain that covered the entry way and stepped inside. It was very dark inside; only small amounts of sunlight streamed in from the gaps in the leafy roof. The ground felt cold as they walked towards a faint glow at the very back of the hut.

Morty saw a medical gurney with a splayed out alien body, a single figure hunched over; performing some kind of operation. Organs and intestine-like body pieces were strewn about- propped up and separated as the figure worked on their surgery. A few blueish lights were shining on them as they worked.

It was only as they drew closer that Morty recognised his uncle, who glimpsed at them over his shoulder with a frown.

"Glad to see you are still sporting about, father." He said, turning back to the operation, sewing something closed with precision, "I was wondering if you would turn up."

Rick was frowning, "I'm assuming your mother is nearby… I won't even try to guess why you are preforming a flipoetomy on this…guy." Rick gestured to the alien on the table.

"Believe it or not, some of us would rather use our genius for the benefit of other, living beings." Ben glimpsed over his shoulder again, starting to place all the organs back neatly. "As for mother, I doubt she would be able to fool that DNA tracker you've put on her." He shrugged, "I'm certain you could find her without too much hassle." He looked at Morty, "would you care to assist me for a moment?" He smiled slightly, welcoming.

Morty hesitantly stepped forward and Ben motioned to two, fleshy folds, "If you could pull those two flaps together while I stitch this closed, I would be very appreciative, Morty." His tone was gentle, despite the loathing look he shot at Rick.

Morty obliged and Ben swiftly, and neatly stitched the alien closed. He wiped the creature over with a medical salve and motioned to a wash basin to his right as Morty looked at his green, blood-covered hands. He quickly stepped over and washed them, and ben was suddenly done.

He stepped aside, flicking something on an I.V line, which was hooked up to the creature. The liquid started dripping slowly.

"Why are you still staring at me like a moron?" Ben growled at his father, "Mother is out in the village somewhere."

Rick was glaring at Ben with an irritated scowl, "Just tell me one thing." He muttered irritably, "Did your so-called genius plan work?"

Ben stared at his father for a few moments before nodding, "Mother was actually more than capable of doing it solo; although I went along to assist." His expression was serious, "Believe it or not; she doesn't need you."

Rick was suddenly scowling, he opened his mouth to say something when the bead curtain clattered open and a shadowy form stepped through. Morty noticed how his grandfather's expression softened ever so slightly at the sight of Myra, before it was hastily replaced with irritation.

She was scantily clothed in native-like attire, although hers definitely covered her backside. Her face was covered in mud symbols, her eyes intense as she strode forward.

"Hey Morty!" She said, giving his head a childish scruff before she turned to his grandfather, "Hello Rick."

Rick was frowning at her, "L-looks like you're really living it up here." He sounded surly, "Guessing your rescue mission was a grand success."

Myra strode forward and snatched a strange, apple-testicle fruit from a nearby stand and glanced at Rick, "Did you know that the federation has taken over planet Squanch completely?" She asked, taking a swift bite of the fruit, "A lot of them were imprisoned in that facility." She sounded matter-of-fact, "we re-located them here; it's somewhat similar to their home planet and the natives are quite accommodating."

When Morty glanced at Rick, he noticed he looked increasingly annoyed. It was as though the prospect of Myra doing well without his help pissed him off.

"Great." Rick muttered, "Where's Squanchy?"

Myra gestured to the outside, "At the bar."

"Finally, someone around here has sense." He snapped testily, and left through the beaded curtain.

Myra turned to Morty, "You must be exhausted after tolerating Rick." She smiled and threw a testicle fruit at him, "You should try one of these, they are amazing."

Morty glanced at the fruit and took a tentative bite. His mouth was suddenly filled with a sweet, tasty juice and he was overcome with a sense of joy. "Oh my god!" He mumbled, biting into it more.

"Those fruits release endorphins in human brains." Ben said, stepping forward, "they can be super addictive so I think one will be enough." He said, glancing side-long at his mother. "Father looks furious." He stated.

Myra nodded, "He just needs a moment to cool off before I approach him again." She said, "He's a sour-puss like that. I don't doubt seeing Squanchy will put him in a better mood."

"Provided he doesn't drink too much." Ben frowned, and handed a portal gun to Morty, "Return home whenever you wish, Morty; I know that things can be rather tedious when you are waiting for my Father to pull his act together."

Morty grasped the gun, "T-thanks."

Myra and Ben stepped outside the hut, glancing around the bright landscape with slight smiles.

Ben turned to his mother, giving her a screen device, "There's something you should hear." He said, flicking the screen to life.

Myra's eyes wandered over the screen, seeing a fussy, dated- video of a young Rick. He was swaying in his seat before the camera, his gaze unfocused and a bottle in his hand.

_"So, today's the day…"_ he let out a lengthy belch, a groggy grin curved his mouth.

* * *

**Sorry for the late update!  
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**If you are enjoying this, please let me know; it makes me want to write more! **


	11. Chapter 11

Rick sat beside Squanchy in the messy, dank mud hut that served as the local bar, a glass of hard liquor in hand. Squanchy was great- the little furball didn't hold grudges, didn't complain and just lived life every day. That was what Rick needed; to not listen to anyone else's' shitty whining for one evening.

"So are you and Myra squanching it out?" Squanchy raised his eyebrows suggestively with a wicked grin on his face.

Rick gulped down the rest of his drink, staring dead-ahead with annoyance, "I really never know what the deal is with her." He stated sourly, "One moment w-we're hot… the next… i-i-it's like a fucking idea bursts into her head and she does nothing but overthink everything." He motioned to the bartender to pour another drink.

Squanchy scratched his chin in thought, "So, would you mind if someone else was to make a squanch on her?"

Rick stared ahead with a furious scowl, "Sh-she's a g…rown ass woman." He belched, "She has a brain… w-which she _sometimes_ uses. I-i-I could care less."

Squanchy's eyes narrowed sceptically, "Well you wouldn't be too mad if we squanched it out already?"

Rick suddenly spat out his drink in disbelief, spraying the bartender. He stared at Squanchy, eyeing the little furball up and down.

"Gee, Squanchy… good for you." Rick said, his eyes wide, "N-no offence, but I thought Myra had maybe a _tiny_ bit if taste."

"Oh she _tasted_ a tiny squanch." Squanchy grinned.

Rick felt his jaw clenching, despite himself. He felt an old, long-forgotten sense of irritation bubbling away in the pit of his stomach. He was more annoyed at himself for feeling so possessive; he thought he was above such pointless shit.

Rick had paused for a moment, and remembered the drink in his hand and gulped it down. He glanced at Squanchy, who was still grinning to himself as he cradled his own drink.

"W-w-what's with that goofy-ass look on your face?" Rick frowned irritably.

"She was just so good at squanching. She just makes everything squanch so good." Squanchy was grinning impossibly wide.

Rick cringed, "Ok, no need to go into graphic detail." He motioned to the bartender for another drink. As the alien bought the bottle over, Rick snatched it out of his hand and slid his empty glass over the bar. The bartender scowled and walked away again.

Squanchy let out a lengthy sigh, "It's just that she's so darn popular for squanching around here." He shook his head, "Everyone wants a piece of squanch with her."

Rick felt himself grinding his teeth, "C'mon, Squanchy… what are you trying to do here? I-I-I ca…me here for a drink, not Myra's sexual resume."

Especially not now- considering she was so fresh out of bed with him.

He chugged on the bottle and listened to Squanchy snickering to himself.

"You should squanch the look on your face." The little furball was grinning, "I think you really squanch her, despite saying you don't."

Rick turned to his tiny friend and scowled, "_please_." He rolled his eyes, "Wh-what would be the point?"

"Sometimes there is no point to squanching another person." Squanchy shrugged.

There were a few moments of silence before Rick spoke again.

"S-so all that stuff was just bullshit, right?" He was frowning.

"Duh." Squanchy grinned, "We all know that Myra only has squanch for you."

Rick felt his mouth curving ever so slightly at the relief that surged through him, and swiftly turned away to hide his face.

As if on que, Myra walked into the bar and their eyes locked, before she smirked to him and wandered over. She sat down on a chair next to him and her brow creased suddenly.

"Why are you drinking that non-alcoholic shit?" She frowned.

Rick glanced at the bottle.

"They give that stuff to babies and lactating women…" Myra frowned, making a strange hand gesture with her hand to the bartender who suddenly chortled to himself and slid a bottle along the bar towards them.

"Now this stuff…" she was grinning, "Will put some _balls_ in your sack."

Rick was smirking at her sudden easy-going attitude. It was as though her icy hostility had worn off and things were returning to their usual quips and banter.

"I had him believing that we squanched!" Squanchy was chuckling, offering his empty glass towards her as she started pouring the golden liquid.

Myra snorted, "Please, as much as I love you, Squanchy- there's no way I could bump nasties with you."

Squanchy grinned, "Such a shame. We'd be awesome at squanching together."

They were all plastered under an hour later; the bottle drained and they were already halfway through a second. The trio joked about old times, bringing up old tales of the Gromflomite wars and various other endeavours.

Though when they mentioned Bird Person, they all fell silent.

"Ben isn't overly- optimistic about a rescue mission, considering he is mostly located on their main base." Myra murmured, "He is working on something, though."

"T-that little prick." Rick shook his head, "Outdoing me in e….every way." he belched. "I bet he's still a virgin."

Myra shrugged her shoulders, "I really couldn't care less about his sex life."

"I-I bet he just looks in a mirror and jacks off." Rick snorted.

Myra let out a sudden snort and was soon laughing loudly, "That really wouldn't surprise me."

Squanchy was snoring loudly from beside them, passed out in a puddle of his own drool.

Rick looked outside and saw it was dark. Time always seemed to fly whenever he was with Myra; something about that prospect pissed him off and pleased him simultaneously.

She was suddenly looking at him with her big, silvery eyes; her expression softened, "You should probably get going." She murmured, "It's getting late."

Rick shrugged, "I was actually thinking a little sleepover would be beneficial." He took another sip of his drink and glanced at her side-long.

She raised her brow at him, "Bunking with Squanchy, like the good, old days?" she was smirking.

Rick cocked his brow at her, "You know what I mean."

"I thought we were taking a breather?" She said, glancing outside.

"_I_ never said that- that was something _you_ insinuated." Rick frowned, "I'm happy keeping everything light and casual, so long as y-you don't bitch too much about labelling things." He was suddenly laughing to himself, "Who would have though I would be trying to get a chick to '_settle_ _down'_."

Myra stared at him momentarily, "You know… despite that being a joke… the very prospect has me wanting to run for the hills."

"I-I'm just saying that we should just keep having fun." Rick shrugged, "There's never been strings attached; w-w-we both know that would freak you the fuck out."

Myra elbowed him playfully, "Watch it, you." She said in a warning tone, her mouth curved into a pleasant smile, "You're going the right way for a spanking."

Rick smirked at her, "Maybe t-that's what I want."

Myra lent forward so her mouth was inches from his ear. He could feel her breath hot against his skin, "You couldn't handle the type of spanking I have planned for you." She whispered, her tone low and seductive.

Rick grinned at her, "We both know I am capable of handling that and more."

It was only moments later they found themselves in Myra's make-shift hut, tearing at their clothes frantically. They were suddenly both naked, making primordial noises as they grasped each other's body and started rolling about the dirt floor.

"I will take that as my cue to leave.." Ben muttered from the back of the hut, snatching up his blanket and pillow and stomping off outside. He looked irritated.

Myra and Rick laughed loudly, their bodies covered in the rich, red dirt.

Rick wasn't sure if it was the increased state of inebriation, or the comforting familiarity of being with Myra, but he was soon feeling extremely tired. Myra's arms wound around him and he could hear the pleasant sound of her steady breathing. Neither of them were aware when they had fallen into a deep sleep.

* * *

Daylight was streaming in through the leafy roof when Myra finally opened her eyes. She was surprised to find herself in her bed, with a blanket pulled over herself. Her hand instinctively reached for the space next to her; expecting to find it empty.

Surprisingly, her hand brushed against Rick's naked, bony frame.

He let out a muffled complaint and rolled over, his face contorting in the pain of a hangover, "Ugh…" He muttered sourly, "How are you so perky?"

Myra grinned at him, "Benefits of having a younger body, I guess."

Rick frowned, "You better wipe that stupid grin off your face." He cringed against the brightness around them, "W-where's Morty?"

"I think he went home last night- Ben gave him a portal gun." Myra stated.

"Of course he did." He grumbled irritably and sat up, "We didn't even have sex last night…" He pinched his brow in irritation, "Man, I-I'm going to be so frustrated today."

"Did you know there have been some studies that suggest sex can relieve quite a few symptoms of a hangover?" Myra was smirking at him.

"I don't believe you." Rick smirked back at her, "But hey, if you are so desperate to get into my pants, I won't stop you."

It was over some moments later; both lay panting in a tangled, naked heap on the bed.

"I must admit, I wasn't sure whether your body would be able to keep up with mine, old man." Myra grinned in a teasing tone.

"Pfft." Rick spluttered in response, "give me five to ten minutes and I will out-do anything you can throw at me." He was panting heavily.

The bead curtain opened suddenly and Squanchy strode in, a wide grin spread on his face when he saw them. "Look who I caught in the squanch…" He smirked.

Rick frowned at him, "I trust there is a legitimate explanation for y-you interrupting our vigorous coitus?"

"The locals just wanted me to make sure that Myra wasn't being brutally squanched in here." He chuckled, "She was being squanched, just not how they thought!"

Myra was suddenly pulling on her clothes, a smirk on her face, "I'd better go check out the Squanch base and see if there have been any updates on Federation activity."

Rick wasn't sure if it was the trick of the light, but he could swear her face was red with embarrassment. She left the hut a moment later.

"She's quite the screamer when you're giving her the squanch." Squanchy elbowed Rick slyly.

Rick snorted and began pulling his own clothes on, "For the locals to be concerned that I was murdering her… yeah she must be."

Rick and Squanchy stepped outside in the sunlight, taking in their beautiful surroundings when the sky suddenly darkened.

They turned and looked upwards, both snarling in irritation at the sight before them. Federation ships covered the sky, casting a black veil over the landscape. The locals started running about in a panic, calling out to each other in fear.

The Squanch natives were still tucked away in the distant hillside. Rick could just make out the fuzzy, reddish blob that was Myra.

_"Citizens of Planet Lemocake; this is the Galatic Federation; prepare to be raided. We believe you are harbouring some Federation Felons. Any resistance during this raid will result in fatal consequences." _The voice boomed over the speaker of a nearby ship.

Rick snatched his plasma gun out of his lab-coat pocket, "Ready to kick some ass?" He asked Squanchy.

Squanchy smirked wickedly, "We both know I am always ready to squanch."

* * *

**New chapter will be posted Friday next week! **

**Reviews are welcome! **


	12. Chapter 12

Myra was more than a little pissed off at the sudden appearance of the federation. They had ensured that they wouldn't be followed- even chose an extremely remote planet that wasn't too far or close to be a suspicious target. She had thought everything would be smooth sailing; how wrong she had been.

Ben was barking orders to the Squanch natives, hurriedly evacuating them through a portal. He shot her an agitated expression, and she understood that he would go with them to ensure their protection on the other end. Despite being fairly self-absorbed, he did like to ensure other being's safety; one of his father's short-comings that he luckily failed to inherit.

She nodded her head at him, in understanding, and ran towards the village, where Gromflomites were already dropping from the ships to the surface. Myra's eyes wandered over the villagers who had started to defend their home, their little poisoned darting-guns in hand.

Rick and Squanchy were in action, like a scene from their youth. Squanchy had resumed his beast form, stomping and throwing Gromflomites that were unfortunate enough to cross his path. He let out various crude phrases of anger towards them, tearing one in half with a mere jerk of his hands.

She made her way towards him, "Squanchy!" She shouted over the gunfire. His eyes snapped across in her direction as she leapt towards him. He caught her in his huge fist and let out another roar in the Gromflomites direction.

"It's smash time." She was grinning at him, pointing towards the direction of the ships above them.

Squanchy let out an amused chuckle and then suddenly hurled her into the sky with extreme force.

Rick let out an involuntary grunt of concern as he watched, shooting a nearby Gromflomite as his eyes followed her upwards. She was extremely fast; her hair whipping about in a frenzy of red as she shot towards the ships. She held her fists out, suddenly colliding with a ship. She vanished; her body tearing through the reinforced shell like it was made of butter.

A few moments later there was a large explosion and the ship started sinking towards the earth.

"Holy shit!" Rick said in surprise, watching as she emerged at the top of the ship, leaping across onto the next as the first one veered towards it.

The Gromflomites on the ground were all suddenly crying out in a panic, barking hasty orders to reform their ranks as the ship crashed into the ground in a smoky heap.

Rick shot down a few more as they fell back slightly, his eyes searching for Myra once more, who suddenly landed with a heavy thud, forming a slight crater next to Squanchy. The second ship exploded with a bright flash; the shockwave nearly knocking him over.

"What kind of abomination did I create?" Rick snorted at her in disbelief, his mouth curving into a bemused smirk. "I honestly could have used you as a battering-ram to break out of that Federation prison, you know!"

Myra grabbed a nearby Gromflomite, tearing off a pair of his arms and then used them to bash his head in. She smirked, "I'd certainly love to visit a timeline where that happened." She was splattered in the blueish Gromflomite blood as she tossed the useless limbs aside.

Squanchy let out another roar, and snatched her up once again, "Round squanch!" He snarled, hurling her upwards once more.

Rick watched as she single-handedly Rambo-ed her way through the final ship, returning to their side with a large pair of automatic plasma cannons slung over her shoulders.

He was amazed how he had seemingly forgotten how beneficial she was to have around for these kind of situations. The fact she was abnormally strong, in addition to her being pretty indestructible, made her not only a living-shield, but also a pretty capable killing machine.

The last Gromflomite was suddenly trying to crawl away, but Myra stood on his crippled legs and he let out a scream of agony. There was a sickening crunching sound as she bore her heel into his mangled flesh.

"Now you're going to tell us how you found us." She snapped in an irritable tone, twisting her heels into his legs.

The Gromflomite screamed loudly, letting out a pathetic whimper as Myra knelt down beside him, "You'll _never_ make me talk!" He snapped, shuddering from the pain.

Myra cocked her head to the side, "You see the problem with _'never'_, is that the infinite aspect to that. You could literally be tortured indefinitely." She shrugged at him, "Every. Single. Minute." She grabbed his antenna and began to tug.

Rick's phone started ringing loudly and he swiftly snatched it out of his pocket, briefly looking at the caller ID to see Beth's name. He frowned and answered, "Hey sweetie… this really isn't a good time right now…"

Beth's voice came in a low, concerned tone, _'There's something wrong with Morty."_ She said, in almost a whisper, _"He's acting very… odd…" _

Rick let out a frustrated sigh, turning away as the Gromflomite screamed loudly when Myra pressed her gun into his mangle, legs. "Y-you called me to tell me t-that my weird-ass grandson is acting _strange_?" He muttered in disbelief. "I-is that _really_ something that warrants a phone-call, sweetie?"

Beth sounded like she entered the bathroom and closed the door, _"He just showed up in the middle of last night… wearing a suit of all things. He's acting… well… like YOU." _

Rick let out a frustrated sigh, "Still doesn't sound like the kind of thing I should concern myself with… but i-if you're really that unsettled by it, I will swing by and check him out…"

There was another loud scream from the Gromflomite behind Rick before Beth answered. _"Thank you."_

Rick hung up the phone and jumped as a blast from a laser-pistol sounded behind him. He turned to see Myra standing over the now-dead Gromflomite. She was looking at him with a concerned expression.

"Apparently the citadel is, currently, in cahoots with the Federation?" She asked, noting how he had missed the conversation. She glanced at him with an odd expression, after a moment, when she realised he was sporting his own quizzical gaze. "What's wrong?"

Rick put his phone away, "I-its nothing. Just Beth being worried over… puberty… I guess?." He shrugged his shoulders, "But t-the citadel working with the Federation?" He asked sceptically, "T-that sounds as big of load of BS as that Dianne is Tammy assumption you pulled out of your ass."

Myra folded her arms across her chest, suddenly glancing at him with annoyed eyes, "I'm sure all of this is mere, fleeting, entertainment, for you…But I am trying to guarantee the freedom of all of these Squanch citizens and suddenly find out the Federation AND the citadel are breathing down our necks?" She shook her head, "Something big is happening; whether you want to acknowledge it or not."

Rick glanced from Myra to Squanchy, who resumed his normal form, before letting out a weary sigh, "Why do y-you have to be such a pain in the ass?" He pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Fine, I'll humour you for a-a while longer… Tell me what this oversized blowfly had to say…."

* * *

It was late in the evening when Myra woke from a restless sleep. She sat up, soaked through with sweat and glanced beside her at Rick, who was completely out of it.

She found herself shaking her head at him as he snored away, oblivious to her suffering.

Myra climbed out of bed and pulled on her clothes, glancing around Rick's messy room before setting off downstairs quietly; ensuring to make as little noise as possible.

On her way to the garage, she suddenly felt an odd sense of unease. Like she was being watched- though that was impossible; the whole family had been asleep when they had arrived back. Rick had momentarily checked in on Morty while he slept, to alleviate any of Beth's concerns; he said it had been a tedious and pointless task.

She opened the door to the garage and jumped slightly as a figure looked at her from a seat in-front of the workbench. It was Morty, only he wasn't in his pyjamas; rather he was sporting a dark dress suit shirt and pants. His eyes glimmered with a hint of amusement.

"Hello, Myra." He smiled at her.

It was the tone and the flatness of the smile on his face that made a sudden shudder of unease travel up the length of her spine. She forced a smile back.

"What are you still doing up, Morty?" She glanced at the clock on the wall, "It's four in the morning."

"Thank you for stating the obvious." He smiled at her, "Actually, I was hoping to talk to you."

Myra stepped into the garage with a cocked eyebrow, "Oh?" She folded her arms across her chest, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the intense look in the boy's eyes, "What could you possibly want to talk to me about?"

"A great deal." Morty said, folding his arms across his own chest with a grin, "You see, I've come to the realisation that the majority of Ricks have- or _had_ a Myra in their respective timelines." He started, "Where are the rest of you?"

Myra chuckled slightly, "infinite timelines means there are infinite me." She shrugged, "You could theoretically jump to a slight branch off this timeline and there will be another version of myself giving you this exact lecture."

Morty glanced at her, as though he was sizing her up before he nodded slightly, "I suppose you are right." He didn't break eye contact, "I wonder where Myra C-137 is? You know, considering C-137 isn't even _this_ Rick's original timeline…"

Myra was still feeling uneasy, otherwise she would have offered to humour him a little more. Instead she locked eyes with him, and had the sudden sensation she was staring into some familiar eyes; from long ago.

"Are you feeling ok, Morty?" She asked, feeling like there was definitely something off with him. Not once had he sounded nervous, or stuttered; amongst all the other red-flags he was throwing off.

Morty let out a weary sigh, "I'm fine; I guess I wanted to see what all the fuss was about." He said, standing up to glance at her once more. She swore she could see something sinister and hungry within their dark depths before he stepped past her and left the garage; suddenly sporting a bemused smirk on his face.

He closed the door behind himself and left Myra glancing around the garage, feeling unsettled. She didn't think there would be much use to waking Rick up; he was still annoyed by her wanting him to actively do something about the Federation and Citadel situation. If she were to bring the weird Morty conversation to him in the middle of the night he'd be furious.

She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration and let out a weary sigh, "Why does every, shitty thing happen, all at once?"

* * *

**Reviews are appreciated! **


	13. Chapter 13

Myra found herself staring at her naked ass.

That in itself wasn't unusual; she had often stared at her reflection in the mirror with critical eyes. No, it was the fact that she was staring at her ass from a distance; through Rick's physical eyes. They had decidedly stepped the kink-factor up a notch, for the bedroom, and underwent a body-swap. Afterall, who _wasn't_ curious about sex with themselves?

"Ugh I forgot how amazing it is not to have bones scraping together like sandpaper." Rick smirked at her, with her face. He cringed as he looked at her, "Ugh man I really stopped giving a shit about all of this…" He gestured to his naked body, "Guess it's too late to give anti-wrinkle cream a whirl."

"How do you manage to move?" Myra asked, giving Rick's body a lengthy stretch, feeling every bit as rattly as it looked, "It's considerably uncomfortable." She twisted Rick's body around, pacing the length of the garage.

Rick gave her a wry smirk and shrugged his shoulders, "W-why do you think I am in a new body every other week? Or why I give myself cybernetic augmentations?"

Myra smirked back at him, "You know I'm not one to kink-shame."

Rick grinned back at her, "No, we both know that would be _extremely _hypocritical of you." He stepped towards her, closing the slight distance between them. He glanced up at her and cringed again, "Y-you know, now that we've actually gone through with this plan I-I think we've made a mistake." He crinkled his nose, "I-it's one thing to idolize the phrase 'go fuck yourself' but in practicality…"

Myra nodded, "I know exactly what you mean; all I can see is all my physical flaws and nothing else…"

Rick grinned at her, "I-it's not that; I'm afraid I'll never be able to top this; w-what if this becomes the only way I can get hard from now on?"

Myra smirked back at him, "We both know that you'd only find a way to outdo yourself." She gave him a wry wink and then turned to the garage door as Jerry opened it swiftly.

"Uh…" He glanced at them both, his expression nervous, "I was hoping to speak to Rick…" He glanced at Myra, in Rick's body "I have a favour to ask."

"Oh by all means, Jerry." Rick was chortling, stepping forward in Myra's body to push her towards his son-in-law, "We both know that Rick would absolutely _love_ to help you out."

"Jerry cringed, and shielded his face with his hands, "Could you… y'know… maybe put some clothes on…? _Both_ of you?"

Rick chortled some more from behind Myra, "Can do… _Rick_ why don't you stay here and entertain Jerry for a bit while I go and slip into something…somehow _more_ indecent." He winked and Myra wrinkled her nose at him as he opened a portal and disappeared inside.

"Give me a moment, Jerry." Myra frowned, grabbing some of Rick's clothes which were luckily in the dryer. She pulled them on and stared at Jerry, who was still shielding his eyes from the nudity before him. "What's so important that you just burst into the garage unannounced?"

Jerry twiddled his fingers together nervously, "As you know I am not one to really admit things like this…"

Myra knew that Rick would have blurted out, 'That you're a moron?'; but she held her tongue while she waited for his nervous bumbling to stop.

"…And there was that _rash_ about a week ago…it hasn't really cleared that up but I…."

She screwed up her face in disgust as Jerry continued to blather on.

"…one of the side-effects was really _beneficial_ to my…. Love-life…. With Beth." Jerry made awkward, pleading eye-contact with her, "So what I guess I am really asking is if I could have some more of that stuff you gave me last week."

"It's called Viagra, Jerry." Myra frowned, "And, as of this morning we are clean out."

Jerry shook his head, stepping past her heading in the directions of the cabinets, "No, no- you pulled it out of somewhere here…"

"Don't go through Rick's shit, Jerry." Myra frowned at him, "We both know that is his number one rule when it comes to morons." She started towards him, tugging him away from Rick's workbench irritably.

"Ugh no- it's _right there_!" Jerry whinged, lunging towards the cupboards once more. Myra struggled to hold him back, irritated by her lack of strength in Rick's body.

"Stop it, Jerry!" She snapped as he started pulling everything out of the cabinets. He fumbled around, desperately trying to pull something out of the cupboard, sending inventions clambering to the floor.

She attempted to drag him backwards once more, and he knocked over a large, glass-like containment vial. It shattered on the floor between them.

Myra saw the flash of bright green as it fizzled and oxygenated and let out a cry of anger, which was abruptly swept away as they were both sucked inside a portal.

She landed with a thud, glad her landing was at least cushioned by Jerry's body beneath her.

She climbed to her feet and glanced around their surroundings, assessing their situation as swiftly as she could. "For fuck's sake Jerry." She frowned, "So desperate for a Viagra cream that you knocked over one of Rick's portal grenades!"

Jerry whimpered sourly and climbed to his feet, "You know it gets really old when you talk about yourself in third person like that, Rick!" he snapped irritably, "Besides if you just GAVE me the cream we wouldn't be here in the first place!" He turned to her and jabbed his finger at her, "We both know that the side-effect of that cream was a temporarily _huge_ penis." He made a wide gesture with his arms, as if to exaggerate the point.

Myra screwed her face up in disgust, "I really didn't want to visualise that. I could have gone an entire lifetime without that image popping into my brain." She cringed, "But hey, good for Beth… I guess?"

"Oh shut it with the high-and-mighty act, Rick." Jerry scowled.

Myra scowled at him, "For the last time; I'm NOT RICK!" She shouted loudly, "I'm Myra- we swapped bodies."

Jerry blinked with a blank expression for a moment, "Why would you…?" He asked in confusion, before letting out a weary sigh, "It's a sex thing…." He muttered, answering his own question.

"I am fairly certain that we're one a planet called Nippleoo, which has recently been 'reclaimed' by the federation." She was frowning, glancing around once more. "Normally I'd be very quick to portal the hell out of here; unfortunately I don't have my portal gun, nor any nifty gadgets in this bloody jacket." She scowled at Jerry, "Maybe because some _idiot_ was too focused on having a temporarily huge wang."

Jerry frowned, "Fuck you- I know that you're Rick." He shrugged his shoulders, "Why would Myra ever talk to me like that."

"Typically we haven't ever been in such a predicament before, Jerry." Myra scowled, "Usually I am somewhat respectful while I am in your house." She gestured around them, "we're in the big, wide world now, you fucking, idiotic asshat!" She glared at him, "I will speak my mind out here."

Jerry frowned at her, "You sound just like Rick!"

"I'd punch you, but I am so paranoid this brittle hand will shatter." She snarled irritably, flexing Rick's hand "Now shut up while I think for a moment."

She could see a cluster of phallic-like buildings in the distance, just past the slight span of forest around them. If they could just make it there…

She turned her attention back to Jerry, who was attempting to mutter insults under his breath.

"Shut up, Jerry." She snapped irritably, "I will not hesitate to leave you behind if you do not follow my instructions." She said grouchily, folding her bony arms across her chest, "we are going to head in the direction of those buildings over there. Now there _will_ be some Federation-types guarding that place, and you can bet your ass they will be armed to the tits." She snatched up a stick and started drawing in the greyish dirt at her feet.

"Now, I will be able to take out one or two guys with some kind of poorly-improvised stealth moves. I'd like you to stay over here…" She drew a long line, back to the edge of the forest area, "And just squeal… just really _pound_ on those vocal chords; the more pig-like the better."

Jerry folded his arms defensively, his face contorting in annoyance, "I am _not_ standing out in the forest and screaming like a pig."

Myra frowned at me, "fine then, I will tell your family I did everything I could to get us both out of here, but you had to be a moron…"

Jerry jumped into action as she turned her back and started walking away, "Hey! Don't leave me!" He chased after her, "just tell me exactly what I need to do."

"I'll tell you when we get there." She glimpsed over her shoulder at him, "But obviously the only two aspects of this plan you need to worry about is the pig-squeal and being completely naked." She turned back to the path ahead of them.

"What?" Jerry blurted in shock, "Now I have to be _naked too_?" he glared at her, "How is that _obvious_?"

* * *

**sorry for the delay/briefness of this chapter. I'm not 100% sure if people are enjoying this *shrug* **

**Let me know if you are~**


	14. Chapter 14

"I know you'd all like me to address the elephant in the room." Rick was frowning as the remanent of his family sat, glaring at him from the sofa. Well, they were really glaring at _Myra_; more specifically her body- which he was currently occupying.

"T-there's a lot to be said as explanation, but I really don't have the time, nor energy to even begin _attempting_ to explain why I am in Myra's body."

"It's a weird sex thing." Summer feign whispered to her mother and Morty, who screwed their faces up in disgust.

"_Thank you_, Summer." Rick rolled his eyes sarcastically, "At least your grandpa is still hitting it on a regular basis, am I right?" He grinned manically at Beth and Morty, who simply shook their heads in disapproval as a response.

Rick cleared his throat, "ok, so I guess what I am really asking, is for Morty's _permission_ to accompany me on a little day trip to Nippleoo to rescue the dumbass known as _Jerry_… a-and you know… get my body back because at this stage, I am really over the whole cloning thing." Rick's tone was a lot more strained than he intended it to be.

"I'm game, mostly for the fact that I think Myra keeps your head on straight-ish; even though you would _never _admit it." Beth was grinning, "But hey, try and disguise your _feelings _for her however you need to." She glanced back down into the magazine in her hands and smirked.

"I'm glad you are feeling rather impressed with yourself, Beth; but don't get cocky- i-it's something stupid people do, because their brain throws them a pity curveball."

"L-let's just go, Rick." Morty was frowning, "Y'know sometimes you ramble the most insane nonsense w-when you're trying to defend yourself."

"Oh yeah, you little piece of Freudian goo?" Rick frowned, jabbing a finger at him, "At least I don't masturbate all over the place."

Morty shrugged his shoulders in confusion, "I'm a teenage boy, sue me."

* * *

Myra peered over the spiky, purple shrub at Jerry who was fumbling towards the direction of the nearest guards. He was muttering some antsy sentences as he ventured closer to them; his expression anxious.

The guards weren't Gromflomites, rather natives to Nippleoo who had been integrated into Federation law. They were humanoid, with purplish skin and large, throbbing, and somewhat phallic heads. Their skin was plated in thick, leather-like discs in places, though they were wearing thick, protective armour; no doubt to ward off any would-be attackers.

Jerry was tiptoeing over the mushy ground, his footsteps awkward and his hands raised far too high for adequate balance. It was only natural for him to fall in the open space before the guards; genitalia on full display. He let out the shrillest scream Myra had ever witnessed from a human male.

Both guards cringed, shielding their faces from the view when Myra made her move. Although Rick's body was far slower and more fragile than she was accustomed to; she had made good use of the surrounding materials by creating some wolverine-like claws out of some metal fragments that had been laying around. She had fastened them to her and scavenged some electronics; swiftly creating some average lasers.

She struck the first one, driving the sharp spikes into the gap between the gap in his armour, around his neck, and then swung her free arm around; quickly lasering across the second's jugular in a swift motion.

Neither of them even had time to scream before they flopped on the ground in a heavy heap; their blood gushing in bright green pools at her feet.

"Fuck." Jerry cowered as he climbed to his feet, "That was…something."

"What did you expect?" Myra was frowning as she started tearing items off the two bodies, "Would you have preferred if I _asked_ them if I could kill them first?"

"No…" Jerry was frowning as she started shoving items into his arms.

"Put this shit on. These guys have a far denser epidermis than our version humans; but their armoured clothing is far superior protection than anything you'll find on earth." She thrust a plasma blaster into his chest, "I trust you can at least shoot?"

Jerry looked at the assortment of items awkwardly, "Jesus."

"I really don't have time to spell everything out for you, Jerry; so I will ask you politely only _once_; please get dressed and at least point and shoot at the bad guys whenever they appear."

Jerry quickly fumbled with the clothing, putting the oversized items on. He looked like a quarterback with padded armour as he began fumbling with some shin-pads.

"There's no pants…" He said, sounding nervous as the sound of commotion began swiftly approaching them.

"No time for that, Jerry." Myra snapped, "Get ready." She had created a few cryogenic bombs out of a few grenades and other items the guards had been carrying. She waited for the opportune moment when a large cluster of back-up guards appeared and threw them.

They landed, right in the middle of them, and exploded in a fantastic cloud of white. When the cloud dispersed there was nothing left but the bodies, frozen solid with expressions of outrage on their faces.

Myra leapt forward, cursing as her knee jarred awkwardly and tumbled into their bodies. They fell to the ground and shattered into dust; she readied the plasma rifle in her hands.

She aimed swiftly, taking out the few guards who charged her way. She was suddenly grabbed from behind and Jerry fumbled forward, holding his plasma gun in shaky hands. The guard snarled and punched Myra in the face and she heard a sickening crunch as her nose broke.

It had been a while since she had experienced a bone breaking and she let out a sharp yell of frustration, momentarily dazed. The guard seized her by the throat and lifted her into the air.

"Shoot…him…Jerry…" Myra said, on choked breath.

Jerry pulled the trigger, shooting Myra in the leg. She let out a cry of anger and pain. "Shoot _him_." She gagged.

"Sorry…" Jerry said, pulling the trigger again; this time landing a blast on her shoulder. "ahh… I am really bad at this…" Jerry spluttered apologetically, and pulled the trigger once more.

The blast landed on the guard's outer abdomen and he stumbled back, loosening his grip enough so Myra could drive another jugular slice home, with her fist blades. The guard grasped at his throat, letting her go.

He fell on the ground, gurgling as he choked on his own blood.

"For fuck's sake, Jerry!" Myra shouted, poking at the plasma burn wounds on her leg and shoulder, "Next time… shoot me in the _head_ first… at least make it _lethal_." She winced, tearing some of Rick's lab coat off to tie over the wounds. She muttered a rather coarse string of curses before turning her attention back to the sirens that had started in the military compound.

"Well that's just great." Jerry said, throwing his arms up in the air frustratedly, "How the hell are we supposed to get home from here, _now_?"

Myra frowned at him, swiftly using her swiss army hands to make some abrupt modifications to her plasma pistol, "You know I can _really_ understand Rick's resentment towards you." She muttered sourly, "The world is already filled with parasitic pustules, let alone one marrying your own child." She cocked the gun, clicking something into place with a swift twist, "Have you ever wondered how much better Beth's and the kid's lives would be without you in it?"

Jerry scowled at her, "Where is all this resentment coming from? What have I ever done to you to deserve such hostility?"

"Way to break out those three syllable words, Jerry." Myra frowned, "And the bitterness isn't exactly one-sided here, matey." She frowned, whirling around suddenly and shooting a guard who appeared behind her.

"I had no problems with you until just now, FYI." Jerry shouted pitifully and blasted another guard, successfully landing a shot to its head. "Oh wow, I actually head-shotted it."

"That's great; use your newfound hatred for me to improve that pathetic excuse you call accuracy." Myra frowned, ducking and rolling to avoid the on-coming plasma blasts.

Jerry let out an irritated wail and open-fired, successfully shooting down three more guards. He started to smirk darkly and let out more cries of fury as he blasted away.

Myra joined the offense, shooting down several more and rolling away from shots. She slashed a few more guards with strategic strikes to their necks. Corpses fell and right as Myra and Jerry started to stride forward towards the largest building, where guards were gathering in an attempt to defend it.

Myra was quickly dodging from corpse to corpse, gathering items and swiftly fixing them together in crude contraptions as Jerry covered her with his miraculously accurate firepower. She leapt to her feet suddenly, throwing a crude chunk of metal towards the building.

Guards leapt out of the way but it was too late. There was an explosion of purple plasma, which engulfed the entire entrance room of the building in a bright flash. Myra and Jerry shielded their eyes from the blinding light, before rushing into the building.

"Thank you, Myra…" Jerry muttered suddenly as they stopped around the corner of a corridor, "I see what you did back there, and I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it, Jerry." Myra frowned, peering around the corner. A blast whisked past her head and she retreated swiftly and let out a curse. "Here are some pants, by the way." Myra said, tossing the snot-green colored trousers in Jerry's general direction.

"Thanks!" Jerry sounded overly-excited by the prospect. He pulled them on swiftly, and secured them into place, "Shall we go kick some ass?"

"I am formulating a plan." Myra snapped, poking her head out from the corner once again. She tossed another contraption and hid behind the corner, curling up into a ball. Jerry swiftly copied her movements and there was another blast of plasma, which seared past them.

Myra poked her head around the corner, seeing the devastation of the blast and climbed to her feet, "All we need to do is get to the control panel, which I am guessing is towards the back of this floor." She sounded matter-of-fact, "Once we get there I should be able to remotely secure a ship or shuttle so we can get the hell out of here. Then we can get home, I can get back into my body and probably, finally, leave for good."

She was muttering the last part more to herself, than to Jerry.

"You want to _leave_?" jerry sounded anxious, "But we just started bonding; I mean I am actually quite fond of you now."

"People come and go from life, literally every day, Jerry." Myra stated, "I just happened to hang around a lot longer than the average person." She started off down the corridor towards the back room, plasma gun ready in her hand.

"But I thought you…._like_ Rick?" Jerry stressed the word unnecessarily.

Myra tensed up, "Of course, it is only natural to be fond of someone you are familiar with. Rick and I have history- history which dictates I feel a lot closer to him than the average lifeform."

"Are you _sure_ you're not Rick?" Jerry smirked at her, "That's all he ever says about feeling anything for anyone. It's like his personal mantra; though I think most of us know that he's just BS-ing ."

Myra shoved Jerry aside, swiftly protecting him from a sudden plasma blast. She was hit in the forearm and let out another curse, firing at the guard who had surprised her.

"The more I'm in this body, the more I realise I have a piss-poor pain threshold." She winced, cradling her injured forearm.

"You _saved_ me." Jerry said, bewildered, "That blast was heading straight for me and you just did something selfless…"

Myra was frowning even more, "Stop stating the obvious and hurry up. I'll need some cover while I secure these bombs to this door." She was changing the subject more than anything. Myra was surprised at herself for jumping to Jerry's aid so suddenly.

She set to work, swiftly planting a few make-shift bombs on every corner of the armoured door, before they hurried back to the corridor corner to shield themselves from the blast.

It exploded, sending the thick, metal door flying. It crashed with a loud clatter into the end of the corridor wall, mere feet away from Myra and Jerry.

A whole lot of guards started to pour outside of the room, screaming angrily as they attempted to shoot Myra and Jerry. But they were seemingly too skilled at avoiding the blasts swiftly dropping their enemies . They clambered over the corpses and into the room, Myra headed straight for the wide control panels, her eyes flittering over the alien language that flickered over the large screens.

She clicked away on the buttons and keyboards and swiped her hand across one of the screens, selecting something and enlarging it.

"This little beauty will do…" She murmured thoughtfully, selecting it and rerouting it to their coordinates.

There were a few moments of silence, and Jerry glanced from the empty corridor over his shoulder at Myra.

"So… commitment issues?" He asked in a soft tone.

Myra let out a frustrated grumble and turned to him, "I don't know if you've notice but one does not simply '_commit'_ to Rick Sanchez." She frowned, "besides, after having an overbearing mother, who wanted nothing more than for me to settle down and get _married_; I still have no intention for either."

There was another moment of silence before Jerry shrugged his shoulders, "Just seems like Rick is fond of you, that's all." He said, glimpsing back to the corridor, "In all the time that I've known him, which granted- isn't very long, he's never seem this… _content_?"

"Being content is lethal, Jerry." Myra frowned, "It leads to complacency, which means fucking up more and more. Suddenly one day you're getting your entire family slaughtered by another version of yourself as some kind of stupid revenge plot." She shook her head, "I am certain Rick would say a big old, _'no thank you'_ , to that."

"_What?_" Jerry asked in confusion before a spaceship suddenly crashed into a nearby wall.

Myra leapt into action and clambered inside it as the door slid open, "I really don't want to rehash the past, Jerry." Myra frowned, hurriedly flicking the control switches, "Let's just get home."

"Easier said than done…" Jerry muttered climbing into the passenger seat.

"that doesn't…" Myra cut herself off with a frustrated grumble, grinding her teeth together, "whatever let's just go." The door slid closed and she took off, without another word.

A green portal flashed suddenly and Rick and Morty appeared amongst the destruction.

"I-I think we might be too late?" Morty asked, glancing around the ruined room, "I think she got them out of here?"

Rick was frowning, holding his dimensional tracker in the air. He waved it around and let out a frustrated grunt, "I-I think that's pretty obvious…" He frowned, watching the coordinates flickering on the screen, "BUT, we only _just_ missed all this action; guess we'd better start looking for your father's corpse. I don't think Myra could have possibly tolerated him through all of…_this…" _he gestured around them.

* * *

It was some time later that Myra and Jerry landed in the Smith's backyard. She landed crudely, knowing that Rick would be more than willing to salvage every inch of the ship for the metal and tech. Nippleoo matter was hard to come by, especially since the federation had taken over. It was a supplier's cargo hold, which happened to be brimming with a whole array of supplies.

Jerry threw open the back sliding door, a huge grin on his face, "Guess who kicked some alien ass?" He asked proudly, his hands on his hips as he strode towards Beth.

She was seated on the couch, her eyes flittering from Myra to Jerry, "I am guessing Myra…?"

Jerry's ego visibly deflated, "honey I _also_ happened to kick some ass… _pretty hard_, mind you."

Myra stepped inside, "He's actually not exaggerating this time." She nodded her head, "He did OK."

A portal suddenly appeared in the living room and Rick and Morty stepped out.

"Geez, Myra!" rick sounded salty, "Thanks for making me go all of that way for _nothing_." He was scowling at her, "I never even got to test this body out in combat- I wanted to knock a few heads loose."

"Rick you _did_… stop lying." Morty frowned at his grandfather.

Myra rolled her eyes, "Sorry for saving Jerry and myself and not needing you to come and rescue me like a bloody damsel in distress." She stretched awkwardly, "Let's swap back; I don't think I can tolerate much more of this brittle body."

Rick muttered incomprehensively to himself and headed towards the garage. Myra followed after him, hearing Jerry try and boast to Beth once more, who sounded less than impressed by his exploits.

Once they were in the garage Rick closed and locked the door. "I'm beginning to feel very undermined by everyone lately." He was frowning, "What t-the hell was that shit you just pulled?"

"What?" Myra frowned as Rick connected the synaptic and neurological transfer cords to her.

"Don't you '_what_' me." He frowned, "You can't just act like a total bitch infront of my family. T-They already treat me like a bag of crap these days…"

"Why so touchy over everything, right now?" Myra frowned, "I'm sorry that I didn't need saving." She said, more as a statement than an actual apology. Rick frowned even more and connected his own cords, and slapped the control pad angrily to commence the transfer.

There was a momentary flash of whiteness, which engulfed her whole mind, before she opened her eyes, revelling in the fact she was in her own body again.

"Oh thank god…" Myra muttered, glancing up as Rick started grumbling more.

"Way to take care of my body! Fuck!" He snapped, walking over to rummage through his shelves for some healing ointment.

"Just so you know two of those are Jerry's attempt at firing a plasma pistol." Myra said, stepping forward.

"You _gave_ him a weapon?" Rick asked in total bewilderment, "The man who has barely any braincells to remember to _breathe_ sometimes?"

Myra nodded, "Shocking, I know." She grabbed the container of ointment from his hand and knelt down before him. She shook her head with a smirk as he suddenly dropped his pants.

"Can't exactly access that wound with my pants in the way." He grinned at her.

She slathered the wound in ointment , watching as his flesh began to knit neatly back together. When she went to get back to her feet, he suddenly, playfully shoved her back down.

"I-I mean, while you're down there…" He grinned at her suggestively.

Some moments later, Rick lay panting on top of her, resting his forehead on hers as he looked into her eyes, "Well, that was great." He grinned at her, "I can't say I am disappointed to have you around again."

Myra wriggled out from beneath him, her bare skin scraping the cement floor, "I'm glad, I guess." She attempted to sound nonchalant, but her tone was still thick with lust.

Rick smirked at her as she started climbing back into her clothes. He was laying on the garage floor, his hands behind his head as he watched her.

"Hey," He cleared his throat, suddenly, "So, I've made some modifications to my bedroom…I've increased the size of my bed. Y'know to make things more practical whenever you visit." He shrugged his shoulders, "Not that I have anything against the fold-out cot I was rocking it on…"

"You were always a man of practicality." She said, almost dismissively, she was fondling her pockets suddenly. She grasped out the portal gun and glanced at it, before placing it back in her pocket, "We both know that would be an extremely logical thing to do. I don't really want to dwell on the permanence of such an arrangement, but I will try not to stress over it too much."

Rick made a dismissive series of raspberry sounds with his mouth, "Coolio…" He said, acting indifferent before climbing to his feet, "I'm just going to… go take a shit…" He pulled his pants back on and swiftly left the garage, closing the door behind him.

Myra glanced around the garage, and thought she should take a shower before something flashed into the space near her feet. She glanced down at the shimmering holo-pad and picked it up, reading the flickering words.

_'The President extends his gracious invitation to the citadel.'_ Myra's eyes traced across the words, _'This invitation is extended to the 'true' Myra Mortimer of…' _ Her eyes widened in confusion as her and Rick's original timeline sequence flickered across the screen. The timeline where Rick's family had... No... it couldn't be- no one knew that Rick wasn't really from C-137...

She found herself frowning, her hand already reaching for the portal gun in her pocket. There was truly no harm in seeing what the president of the citadel wanted…was there?

* * *

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****Smut version of this chapter is on AO3**


	15. Chapter 15

"Are you listening, Rick?" Dianne's voice sounded thick with annoyance.

Rick glanced up from the wafer cookie box into her angry eyes, briefly taking note of how she was tapping her foot impatiently. She was at the very end of her patience tether; no doubt the past few months of him being rather absent had taken more than a slight toll on her.

"Hmm?" Rick said, his mouth full. He watched as her face contorted even more into a frustrated scowl.

Dianne let out an exasperated sigh, "I know things have been somewhat difficult for you; with this whole Myra abandonment thing you are going through; but I really need you to try and be _here_ right now."

"For a _kids_ birthday party?" Rick asked, his tone laced with sarcasm.

"For _Beth's_ birthday party." Dianne stressed.

Rick rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, "You mean our psychopathic daughter? Yeah I'm sure the kids will be lining up round the block to attend this _big_ celebration."

Dianne's gaze darkened and her foot-tapping commenced once again. Her arms folded before her chest and she shook her head at him, "I am starting to understand why she left without a trace, you know."

Rick felt his temper rising even more, "Yeah because she was sick of you and your fucking ultimatums, you god-damn, _bitch_!"

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway; seizing their attention.

It was Tommy's mother; appearing rather frightened by the scene that had unravelled before her.

"Tommy's here…" She motioned to her little, blond son, who was hiding behind her legs. "I just remembered we have a thing…"

"Oh no, please stay!" Dianne's tone was sweet as she strode forward, "Sorry that you had to see that ugly scene…" She led them away into the living area, "Beth's in her room, let's go find her."

Rick rolled his eyes sourly, reaching into the top cupboard for some hard liquor. His hand closed around an unopened bottle of whiskey and he dragged it out, making his way towards his garage.

What was the fucking point? He had access to infinity; had even briefly visited a timeline where Myra had stayed. But deep down, he knew it wasn't the same. _His_ Myra had left; clearly not wanting to let him even have some kind of explanation.

The whole prospect pissed him off in a way he had never been before.

He entered the garage and closed the door behind him; unscrewing the cap off the whiskey. Before he knew it, the empty bottle was in his hand and he let out a lengthy belch of irritation.

He strode over to his bench cabinets, pulling out a half-finished bottle of Falubian alcohol he and Myra had stolen off a Federation admiral on Orphean Twelve during the early days of the galactic wars.

Rick felt a faint smile at the memory, despite himself, and he quickly shook his head; as if it would rid him of the pleasantry. He didn't want to feel happy; he wanted to forget everything- forget how some stupid, red-headed piece could have such an annoying affect on his mind.

The bottle opened; he downed the thick, purple contents within minutes. He cringed as he felt it burning his oesophagus on the way down; felt it causing a searing heat inside him. He was starting to feel the sweet bliss and numbness of intoxication sweeping over him; the room began to whirl.

His hand grasped the edge of the bench for support as he began to sway, "Shit…" He grunted, knocking over a stray flask of white goo. "Ah fuck… is that jizz?" he hiccupped.

Rick's mind was whirling fast. One moment he was in the garage feeling rather sorry for himself; the next he was furious and vengeful- pulling everything apart to create something.

He swayed before the crude contraption he had built, "So, today's the day. The day where I blow this whole fucking place to… smithereens." He slurred into a nearby camera. He thought it was such a brilliant idea to record everything; why not, right?

"So i-i-if you happen to ever come across this transmission, wherever you are, _miss Mortimer, _y-y-you'll be able to see exactly what you are responsible for." He let out a belch and pointed at the camera, "W-w-what was so important that you had to run off without a trace, eh? Forgot how much of a prude your parents want you to be?" He pointed the screwdriver at the camera lens, "You probably just go sick of a-all the fucking amazing sex. Had to go and ruin a good thing, somehow; didn't you?"

He slapped the contraption with his free hand, "But I guess none of that truly matters, anyway." He smirked at the camera, "y-y-you see, with the portal gun technology I can simply jump to a timeline wh…ere none of this happened. I can kill the Rick that inhabits that reality and replace him; no-one would be the wiser."

His eyes focused intently on the camera, "What? Y-y-you think that you're so special that I wouldn't even commit to such a scheme? Well, you're _wrong_." He choked up, suddenly feeling emotional, "I-I'd go through an endless Myra replacement tangent… because y-y-y-you are the most _disposable_ thing in the world."

Rick was suddenly choking back tears, and he wiped them away testily, "Ah fuck!" He snapped, angry at himself, "Who am I kidding?" he frowned into the camera, "I know that y-you're smart enough to see through all the bullshit…" He slurred, slumping his shoulders in defeat, "I know t-that you probably just got really sick of me; that me being too much of a spineless coward to end t-things with you or Dianne…" His mouth quivered slightly, "I thought it would be so much easier i-if everyone else did the leaving; t-that it would somehow work out." He grasped another bottle of alcohol off his bench and began to drink. "But things have n…ever worked out the way I intended them to, anyway."

He looked down at the ground, feeling completely vanquished, a sombre mood darkening his thoughts even more. The silence ticked by painfully.

"Do you remember that time you were in college a-a-and had that, little, pregnancy scare?" he was looking into the camera, as though it would answer back. He waited a few moments, before continuing, "I-I freaked out; I know we _both_ did…But I was eventually… _happy_… at the prospect." He shrugged his shoulders. "There was something that just seemed so… _right_… about us being together and having a little asshole of our own…" He let out a pathetic laugh, "I even bought a fucking _ring_ for you…Y'know- just make everything 'official' and 'normal'; by everyone else's standards."

Rick's gaze darkened, "And then you got your period; you were so fucking _thrilled_ t-to be bleeding for the first time, since I have known you." He shook his head, "I-I can remember you saying something along the lines of _'thank god, imagine bringing you and me together in the form of a kid'_, and _'I honestly couldn't imagine anything WORSE_ _ than marrying you'._ Something to that effect, anyway." He took a long drink from the bottle, until the contents were completely gone.

He glared into the camera lens again, "A-a-and that time, where the phrase 'I love you' slipped out of my fucking mouth when we were laughing at something together…_FUCK_ did you freak out." He let out another disbelieving snort, "You and your deep-rooted commitment phobia."

The room was whirling swiftly, causing his stomach to heave. He frowned once again, shrugging his shoulders, "But none of that matters, and this shitty, pointless existence will be gone as soon as I press this button." He motioned to the big, red trigger on top of his contraption, "So…goodbye, I guess." He was swaying on the spot; it took him many attempts to finally slap the button.

The bomb made a few whirring noises, before it sparked; a small puff of smoke escaped out of the top.

"Fuck." Rick scowled, slapping the button several more times, his head spinning. He slipped, losing his balance.

He briefly saw the garage floor; right before he hit his head as he passed out.

* * *

When he eventually came to- his head was pounding with a stabbing pain and he noticed he had emptied both his stomach and bowels quite profusely all over the floor.

He cringed in pain as he climbed to his feet, cradling his head pathetically as he stumbled inside the house.

Everything was dark and cold. There was no sign of Dianne or Beth anywhere.

He wandered through the kitchen, snatching the note off the fridge his wife had left him.

_'Gone to my parents for a few days. Please don't call.' _

"Great." Rick muttered sarcastically, feeling another sting of abandonment. He made his way towards the bathroom, hoping that the hot water would wash away more than the physical muck and pain he was aching with.

* * *

"What is it with you dipshits and all this need for consent all of a sudden?" Rick was glaring at his family furiously across the breakfast table, "I-it would be so much simpler if you guys h…ad a little more faith in me. I-I can look out for Morty till the Trump comes home, but there will still be the odd moment when I will have to do an emergency cloning, or termination…." He trailed off, seeing the stern look of disapproval from Beth.

"I am quite confident in my son's ability to speak for himself, thanks Rick." Jerry was frowning at him, pointing a fork of eggs in his direction.

"Thanks dad, but I can take it from here." Morty said, rolling his eyes at his father. He turned his gaze towards his grandpa, "W-w-what is it this time? Where are we chasing y-your girlfriend to now?"

"Pfft!" Rick snorted, glancing away defensively, "She's not my _girlfriend._"

Summer smirked wide, "With the sounds I've heard from your bedroom- I'm sure you're _her_ girlfriend."

"Ok, nice to know that my family likes to listen to me getting freaky…" Rick frowned.

"Dad, the neighbours have complained- on _several_ occasions." Beth said with a cringe.

"Just so we're clear- that one incident with Gene's leaf-blower shouldn't really count…" Rick said defensively, "I did actively wipe his mind of it happening."

"Unfortunately for the rest of us; the image of…._that_… is still firmly in my mind." Jerry frowned, decidedly pushing his plate aside; as though he had lost his appetite.

There was a brief moment of silence before Rick cleared his throat, "So, Morty…adventure?"

Morty frowned, "Y-you need to give me more details to go off, Rick." He shrugged his shoulders, "I-I don't really want to run into this blindly. Where did she run off to this time?"

"Maybe she just wants to give her vagina a break." Summer said, glancing down into her phone, "I'm sure its in desperate need of it."

Rick wrinkled his nose at her, "_why_ would…" He trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He made a noise of agitation and glared at Morty, "_please_ come with me on this adventure; which is completely _unrelated_ to Myra. I have something to sell a federation spy. It's going to be the usual Rick and Morty shenanigans adventure."

Morty's eyes narrowed suspiciously and he took a lengthy gulp of his orange juice, before setting the glass down calmly, "I'm not buying it."

Rick threw his hands up in the air in frustration, "T-then I will just go myself, geez!" He stood up abruptly, "Just give me a yes or no; there's no need to dr…ag the whole thing out." He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew his portal gun.

He was gone in a bright flash of green.

"Are we taking bets this time around?" Summer piped up all of a sudden, "I'm tossing my hat in the- she's _doing it _with another grandpa Rick_."_

"That's your bet _every_ time!" Jerry whined in protest. He lent forward and jabbed his finger into the table, "I say she's gotten herself into some kind of _sex party_ situation and can't find her way out."

"Is everyone's thing going to be a sex-related thing?" Beth asked, glancing around the family with a frown.

Morty shook his head, with a shrug "Maybe she just had enough of Rick, you know?"

Everyone shrugged and nodded their heads. They all could see that as a plausible explanation for Myra's sudden absence.

* * *

Myra had been drifting in and out of consciousness for what seemed like hours. They had been waiting for her the moment she teleported to the citadel. Ricks and Mortys all dressed in uniforms had swarmed her; rendering her unconscious with a steady stream of electricity.

She awoke briefly in a sterile-looking room, an oxygen mask covering her face. She smelt the sharp scent of nitrous oxide and anaesthetic before quickly drifting into unconsciousness again.

When she finally drifted back into full consciousness; she was sitting in a luxurious armchair, wearing a rather revealing , red, shimmering dress; seated around an elaborate table. She glanced around the empty chairs along the table, her eyes resting on the chair at the opposite end of the table; it's back to her.

"So, you're finally awake." The monotoned voice sounded like a Morty.

Sure enough, as the chair swivelled around dramatically, it was. It was the strange Morty Myra had encountered in Rick's garage; there was no mistaking it; there was a strange unsettling darkness that resonated within his eyes.

"Mr President, I assume?" Myra asked; her mouth forming a firm line, "how very _creepy_ of you to have my clothes changed."

Morty smirked at her, "It was necessary. Your other clothes were torn in the operating theatre; and you really look quite appealing in red." He rested his head on his hand with a chilling grin, "Matches the hair."

Myra screwed up her face, "Ok… this is getting super disconcerting, rather quickly." She cleared her throat, "so far I have _many_ questions. First of all - why was I in an operating room?" she was attempting to remain calm.

"We had to alter your genetic code." Morty waved his hand dismissively, "Couldn't have _him_ tracking you down. Better he stays out of the picture. For the moment, at the least." He shrugged his shoulders, "We have many means of getting through that tough body of yours; so don't worry it was a roaring success." He stood up and strode over to the nearby decanter and poured himself a glass of golden liquid. "Who knew that a small glob of jellyfish DNA could be enough to throw off an interdimensional tracker?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "I'm assuming most people would understand the basic principles." She shook her head, "But I'm not really interested in that; you know my main concern is: why am I here in the first place?"

The Morty smirked and his dark, humoured expression made her feel uneasy. He straightened up, swirling the golden liquid around in his glass, "I can see why he is so taken with you; even solely based of physicality alone." He smiled, glancing down into the golden liquid.

"Ok, gross." Myra was frowning at him, "I'm seventy-odd years old and you're a pubescent child." She was shaking her head, feeling rather unsettled. "If your goal was to freak me out; congratulations, you've succeeded."

The Morty chuckled, loosening his tie absent-mindedly, leaning back in his chair once more. "Oh I think you'll find I have quite a bit more…_experience_ than you'd assume."

Myra visibly cringed at his words, "OK… well thanks for the cringe-fest, but I think I will be on my way."

The Morty's smirk faded from his face, "Oh, You're not going anywhere. Even if you try; this time you will not succeed, in any capacity." His mouth curved into a bemused smirk once again, "I think you'll find that you've not only been stripped of your invulnerability and strength; but you will find it quite impossible to make it out of the citadel alive."

Myra was frowning at him, her hand clenching until she felt her fingernails drawing blood in the palm of her hand. She glanced down, seeing her blood. Her mind whirled in disbelief, "You fucking arrogant brat!" She hissed at him; her temper seething.

He smirked at her, clicking his finger suddenly.

Two guards appeared in the doorway behind her and the Morty grinned, "Take her to prison cell two-eighty-four until she calms down; she seems to have gotten herself rather riled up." He grinned, waving dismissively to them.

They seized her and she struggled within their grasp, "How dare you!" She snapped at him, "I knew this was a fucking set-up!" She tried to wriggle free from the guard's grasp but found she as incapable.

The Morty grinned at her, "Yet you came willingly. Who knew that your desire to run away from things was strong enough that you'd make such a moronic decision?" He turned the chair away from them once more, "Take her away; I've grown bored."

Myra shouted a string of insults towards him, straining against the guards grasp hopelessly as they led her away through the dark halls.


	16. Chapter 16

To say that Myra had never been close to her father, would be a significant understatement. He rarely talked to her; often opting to buy her material items in place of showing her any kind of care or affection.

Not that he was a completely cold man. There had been a moment or two where he had let his playful side get the better of him; having a water-fight with her one time when he was cleaning his car, or even the time he pathetically 'helped' fix her Halloween costume when she was very small.

But overall Victor Mortimer wasn't a very emotional man; or a talkative one, whenever it came to matters of his wife and daughter.

So, when he had warmly invited her to a 'take your kid to work day', when she was twelve, she had keenly accepted. Myra had high hopes of bonding with her father as they drove to the large, overly-flashy building, where he worked. Of course, he didn't just _work _there; he was the CEO and owner of the entire business and building.

Victor cleared his throat as they pulled into his parking space, "Now Myra, there are a lot of people who look up to me as an authority figure. I implore you not to do anything that will embarrass me, or tarnish my name." His face was the usual, blank stern expression.

Myra nodded her head, "I assure you I will not do anything of the sort, sir."

He nodded, almost sighing in relief, "Very good." He said before they exited the car.

She had endured the long elevator journey to the top of the building, listening to the dull music playing. She stole several side-glances at her father, but he continued staring ahead, until the doors opened.

A woman instantly greeted them. She had dark, silky hair pulled back into a neat pony-tail. She was wearing a grey suit-dress outfit, which complimented her steely eyes as she smiled at Victor.

"Good morning, sir!" she smiled, holding several folders towards him, "We have a few merger deals that need to be revised, whenever you have a moment." She let out a gasp of delight as she glanced down at Myra, "Oh my goodness, gracious!" She gasped, "Is this your daughter?"

Victor suddenly placed his hand on Myra's head and gave it a playful scruff, "Yes, this is my lovely daughter Myra." He said, his voice booming through the cubicles.

Heads started appearing over the partition walls to glance in her direction. Suddenly a room full of eyes were on her.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you." Myra said, attempting to sound pleasant.

Victor nodded his head and grasped the folders from the woman, "Annette, could you please look after Myra today? Give her a few tasks etc. She's quite the bright young lady- don't be afraid to give her something to really sink her teeth into." Myra saw her father smile widely. It was only the second time she had ever seen him smile in her entire life.

"Certainly, Sir!" Annette smiled at him.

Annette led her away, "Now sweetie, you really must tell me about yourself!"

Myra had spent the whole day learning about business analysis and investment risk management. Annette had also set her to work photocopying some files and notes to fill in some extra time.

Overall, it hadn't been what she had been expecting; she had really hoped to spend the day with her father. She was angry at herself for having such high hopes.

It was getting late and Annette kept on looking at the clock. It was nearly seven in the evening; no doubt she was itching to go home to her family… or half a dozen cats.

"Why don't you go?" Myra smiled at her, stapling a set of papers together, "I can manage from here; and if not, my father is in his office."

Annette let out a weary sigh and nodded her head, "Thank you, sweetie; you're a gem." She started gathering her coat and bag, "If only my own daughter was as kind, patient and thoughtful as you are!"

Myra resisted to roll her eyes as Annette disappeared inside the elevator.

Another hour ticked by, excruciatingly slow, and Myra had finally had enough. She strode towards her father's office and opened the door, feeling suddenly sick at the sight before her.

What she saw shocked her. Her father was with a strange, blonde woman, who he had bent over his desk crudely; her clothes completely gone.

Myra let out a shocked gasp and quickly left the room.

"Myra!" her dad shouted in a mixture of panic and anger.

Her face was burning with shame and embarrassment as her dad stormed through the doors and grasped her by the shoulders.

"Myra- don't you know how to knock?" He snapped furiously. "When my office door is closed, that means I am busy."

"You mean 'busy' _fucking_ some strange whore!" Myra snapped, tears burning in her eyes from his betrayal. What would her mother do when she found out?

He slapped her in the face hard. She felt the sharp sting against her cheek, which was followed by a hollow ringing in her ears. Pain radiated from the left side of her face.

"How _dare_ you use that kind of filthy language?!" He was seething, "Ladies don't use such abhorrent words!"

Myra was physically biting her tongue to prevent from saying more, her eyes already leaking tears she stubbornly didn't want to shed.

There was a brief pause and her father let out a sigh, "What you saw… Let's not tell your mother about it, shall we?" he was frowning, "In return, I will allow you to continue to be friends with that impoverished boy across the street."

Myra scowled at him, "You can't stop me from being friends with Rick!" She snapped, "You can't _control_ every aspect of my life!"

He raised his hand to strike her again and she flinched away from him.

His lip curled in irritation, "Don't test me, young lady." He said through clenched teeth.

Myra closed her mouth, forming a firm line as more tears streamed down her face.

"Wipe that pathetic look off your face." He frowned at her, "Let me awaken you to the real world, Myra." His dark eyes seemed to grow impossibly darker, "There is no such thing as love. It is merely something romanticised by women who have nothing better to do with their days. Marriage is nothing more than a contract between two people, who are forced to spend the rest of their lives together and combine their wealth, or separate everything, right down the middle." He pointed his finger at her, "_I will_ get a say over who you befriend and marry, for the simple fact that I can have bad things happen to people I don't like." He paused, "That Sanchez boy across the street has already been walking on thin ice with his influence over you; don't push me to make that phone call that will remove him from the picture forever."

Myra's eyes went wide in disbelief.

"Have I made myself clear?" Her father asked in an agitated tone.

Myra nodded her head, her shoulders slumped in defeat, "Crystal clear, sir." She murmured, lowering her gaze.

He straightened his shoulders, "Good, now go and wait in the car." He frowned at her, his stern gaze boring a hole in her.

Myra didn't wait in the car.

She had run through the streets, not stopping once, even when it started to pour with rain. Myra had tripped over several times, scraping her arms and legs, but she refused to stop- until she reached the front door of the Sanchez' house.

She pounded on the door, somewhat furiously until Mrs Sanchez opened the door and gasped at the sight of her.

"Myra!" She gasped , quickly dragging her into the warmth of their home, "Oh my goodness! Get in here!" She whirled her through the house, snatching up a towel from the bathroom. She wrapped it around her and held her close.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" Mrs Sanchez asked in a low tone, her arms tightening as Myra began to sob pathetically. "What happened?" She was stroking her sodden hair comfortingly and Myra's arms eventually wound around the woman, clinging to her tightly.

"Shh, shh…" Mrs Sanchez whispered, "Let's get you out of those wet clothes and you can tell me everything, ok?"

* * *

Rick had been in his room when Myra had suddenly appeared at his house. He could overhear his mother trying to murmur words of comfort to her; he could gather that she was upset over something by her choking sobs.

He stepped towards the living room, "Everything ok, Morty?" He asked, feeling perplexed and at a loss as to what to do.

She suddenly rushed forward and threw her arms around him, completely losing her composure. Her entire body was cold and sodden from being out in the rain for far too long. He patted her back awkwardly, feeling her damp body pressed against him.

"I… uhh.." Rick muttered uncomfortably, "I'm here… for you… I guess?" He shot his mother a questioning glance and she gave him a thumbs up and signalled for him to continue. "Ugh… what… happened?"

His mother gave another affirmative sign and stepped past them, "I'll go get some clothes for you to change into." Beverly smiled and disappeared down the hall.

Myra broke away suddenly, wiping her red eyes, "I'm sorry to turn up so unexpectedly… and for embracing you. I know you're not a hugger." She was looking at her feet uneasily, "All I could think about was coming here; I really need a friend right now."

Rick scratched his chin thoughtfully, "A _friend_…hmm.." He met her eyes with a puzzled look, "I-I mean, don't girls usually band together for this kind of emotional crap?" He shrugged, "I know you don't exactly have friends, but geez…"

Myra frowned at him, "Very funny, Rick Sanchez. And how very hypocritical for you to say."

He shrugged his shoulders again, "I-I don't need friends. I have you; and trust me you have enough moods these days to make up for a dozen more."

"It's called puberty; do I need to explain further?" She frowned, folding her arms across her chest.

He smirked at her, "Great, for future reference I can make all the period jokes I want."

"No you can't!" Mrs Sanchez scowled, suddenly appearing in the room with a set of Rick's clothes, "There is never an excuse for such vulgarity, Richard!"

Rick chortled, more to himself than to anyone else.

Myra accepted the clothes from his mother, "Thank you, Mrs Sanchez."

She smiled back in response, "So is everything ok? Would you like to tell me what happened?"

Myra's face paled slightly, "I saw my father… cheating on my mother." She said, hanging her head slightly, "He hit me and then threatened… to hire a hitman, I guess- if I told my mother."

Mrs Sanchez gasped, slumping back onto the couch, "Oh my word!" she was holding her hand to her chest in disbelief.

"That's pretty fucked up." Rick stated.

"_Language_ _!"_ Mrs Sanchez snapped sternly.

Rick shrugged his shoulders, "What? It _is_ fucked up though; I'm guessing from that red mark on the left side t-that's where he hit you?" He motioned to the large, red welt on Myra's face.

Her hand wandered to it and she nodded gently, "yes."

"What kind of asshole father hits his daughter?" Rick scowled in disbelief.

"The filth that comes out of your mouth, Mr!" Beverly snapped at him, "Do I need to get the soap to wash your mouth out?"

Rick frowned at her, "Last time I-I pretty much ate the whole bar. I-I was shitting suds for a week." He shrugged his shoulders, "Can't say t-that it improved my 'foul language' in the slightest."

Beverly shook her head in disappointment, and climbed to her feet, "How about I make some hot cocoa…" She disappeared into the kitchen.

"So you just _ran_ all the way here from your dad's office?" Rick's eyes wandered to Myra.

She nodded her head, "Honestly there's no place I'd rather be." Myra's expression was pained, "I know that sounds idiotic, but I don't exactly feel that my mother would be an option for comfort."

Rick snorted, "Yeah, that'd be like me running to my dad for anything; but hey I-I guess I can't complain; I only have the _one_ shitty parent."

Myra sighed and nodded, before motioning to the clothes in her hands, "I guess I'd better go get changed…"

She disappeared in the direction of the bathroom.

There was a few moments of silence before Rick could overhear his parents having a hushed conversation in the kitchen. His dad had clearly surfaced from his office to see what all the commotion was.

_"… what do we do? We can't exactly let her go back to that home of hers… at least not tonight!"_ it was his mother's voice.

_"Are you kidding!? I guarantee the cops will be swarming all over this neighbourhood come morning!" _ His dad sounded annoyed, _"Do you know how much INFLUENCE Victor has in this town?"_

Beverly let out an exasperated sigh_, "I will call her mother…hopefully I can talk some sense into the woman to let her stay the night."_

Myra had appeared from the bathroom, she tossed her sopping, wet dress at him, smacking him in the head.

"Fuck!" He snapped, letting it drop to the floor with a squelch, "That's gross."

Myra smirked at him, and for the first time he was acutely aware that they were on opposite ends of the gender spectrum. Her body was beginning to change; albeit undramatically, but certainly enough for him to notice, especially while she was wearing his clothes.

"What's with that weird look on your face?" Myra was frowning at him.

He cleared his throat, "Uhh… my parents are talking about getting your mother to l-let you stay the night."

Myra snorted, "Pfft, it's after nine in the evening; she'll say yes to anything right now- she'll be tanked." She made a chugging motion with her hand, followed by glugging noises.

Rick smirked at her, "Now I know when to go to your mother, asking her to sign a rather sizeable check."

Myra grinned back in response, "Oh, I _encourage_ it!"

Rick's parents appeared from the kitchen, both looking from him to Myra.

"Looks like you can stay here the night… though I'm not quite sure if your mother is really in the state to be making decisions right now…" Beverly frowned in confusion.

Myra shrugged, "It'll be fine; I'll make an appearance over there tomorrow morning."

Rick's dad cleared his throat, "Now… as for the sleeping arrangements.."

"Geez, dad!" Rick rolled his eyes, "I-I understand that parents frown on preteen kids, of opposite genders, sleeping in the same room together, but it's not like we're even _remotely_ interested in… _stuff_…"

"Cut the crap, I was a young boy once, too." Rod frowned at him, "All I want is for the door to remain _open_. Any funny business and my foot will be up your ass." He pointed a finger warningly at his son.

"Sounds like a fair deal." Myra snickered.

Rick cleared his throat, "Hey mom, I believe there was talk of hot cocoa… I uh… don't see any." His eyes wandered to his mother.

Beverly smiled and shook her head at him, "OK, it's coming." She chuckled, and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Rod nodded, "Very well, I will be off to bed- as it is a work day for me tomorrow." He glanced at Myra, "Have a good sleep, Myra. Rick; don't be an ass." He said as he walked past them and left for his bedroom.

Rick rolled his eyes, "I'll never understand that man." He glanced at Myra, "C'mon I-I'll get your bed set up." He motioned for her to follow him to his room.

He pulled the fold-out cot from beneath his bed and unfolded it, giving it a good heave. He frowned when it was finally unfurled, glancing at the thin mattress with a frown, before Myra flopped down onto it without another word.

She let out a noise of agitation as she sprawled out on the cot, opening her eyes to stare up at him, "Do you know how long I've wanted to have a sleep-over here?" She was grinning suddenly; the swollen side of her face barely moving.

Rick cleared his throat, "uhh…" He glanced away, suddenly feeling awkward from the sight of her sprawled out, "I-I honestly have no idea."

Myra shrugged, "Pretty much the day we decided to be friends." She said, sitting up suddenly, "I remember on my seventh birthday how heartbroken I was when my mother wouldn't let you come to my party."

"To be perfectly fair, I-it was a princess dress-up party." Rick shrugged, "I-I don't think my conservative father would be in favour of me dressing up in drag."

Myra snickered, "Like that's stopped you before!" She glanced towards the door as his mother appeared, holding two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. "Thanks, Mrs Sanchez!" Myra smiled.

Beverly handed them their drinks and tucked her strawberry locks behind her ear, out of her face, "Well it certainly looks like you're in a better mood." She smiled pleasantly, "If you need me, just shout." She said, glancing between them with a knowing smirk, before she disappeared into the hallway.

There was a moment of silence, before Rick grasped some extra blankets out of his cupboard and tossed them in a heap onto Myra.

"So, I have a proposal to deal with that asshole father of yours." Rick said, sitting on his bed and taking a lengthy sip of his cocoa.

"I'm listening…" Myra seemed to perk up, she was sitting up, her eyes focused intently on him.

"I'm in the middle of making an _extremely_ potent laxative agent- for… reasons. I say we use it on your father so he can l-literally shit himself to death." Rick was smirking manically.

"Mhmm… mhmm.." Myra was nodding her head, "_Or_ we could just make it so he shits his pants in front of everyone…" she shrugged her shoulders, "I don't exactly want to give him the significance in my life, to the point where I _want_ to kill him. If you can understand that…"

"Ugh I guess?" Rick shrugged, "Honestly I think you'd be better off without him being a dick." He shook his head disapprovingly, "I-I still can't believe he hit you… I mean, t-that shit is going to bruise."

Myra shrugged her shoulders, "I'll live." She took a sip of cocoa, as it gathering some thoughts together, "When your parents hate each other as much as mine do… nothing else can be so painful, comparatively speaking." She met his quizzical stare, "I can't think of anything worse than being trapped in a relationship, only to have that bitterness and resentment poison every aspect of your life." She lowered her gaze, "My parents can only think about how much they don't want to be together; they don't think about how all of their conflict and hatred is affecting _me_. They never think about _me_; only their feelings of resentment towards each other."

Rick felt his face contorting in uncertainty, at a loss as to what to say to her. He let out a little, uncomfortable chuckle, "I-I guess you'll know that for whenever you get married, then."

Myra looked at him, her face dark with severity, "Oh, I have no intention of getting _married_." She said flatly, "Just the very idea of being forever shackled with someone is horrifying."

Rick gulped at the anger in her eyes at the notion, "y-you know… divorce is a thing, Morty."

Myra snorted, "That's beside the point. Marriage is nothing more than a meaningless contract for legality reasons alone. Sure, it can be fobbed off as two people 'uniting' or 'expressing' their _love_ but that is a huge, steaming, pile of shit." She sounded disgusted, "_Love_ is nothing more than a cocktail of chemicals created by our brains."

Rick thought for a moment, "I've been thinking the exact same thing; I-it's like our bodies are running on this primitive code that says 'eat _this_', 'do _this'_ and 'fuck _this'_; i-if anything we're all just running according to our biological programming; all these personal attachments are simply an increased fondness for the familiarity of people, places and things." Rick stated, "I-If you think about it; the longer you are exposed to someone the more attachment you have to said person; which could be argued why most people 'love' their parents so god-damned much; they are the people they've been exposed to the longest."

Myra shrugged her shoulders, "I guess- that's not accounting for the cases, such as mine, where both parents are significantly more asshole-ish than the average."

Rick nodded, "right."

Myra let out a sigh, "Guess I can settle for being increasingly fond of you. You're the only person I can tolerate for more than an hour at a time."

Rick snorted at her, "You poor, stupid, fucker."

* * *

**Thanks for the fave, reviews and follows! **

**Your support really means the world to me! **

**Sorry for an entire flashback chapter (just trying to establish/explain some of Myra's/Rick's commitment issues/thoughts) ; next one will be right back into the Evil Morty stuff! **


	17. Chapter 17

"I'm genuinely curious." The President Morty's gaze was dark as he sat across the table from Myra, a glass of wine in his hand swirling apathetically. "How many Ricks, or lifeforms in general, _HAVE_ you slept with… apart from your original Rick, that is."

Myra's hands were cuffed to the table, her feet were secured to the chair. There was no point in the lavish tray of food they had set in-front of her; it was more as a means of intimidation- of them asserting their domination over her, more than anything. She was frowning irritably, scowling up at the Morty at the question.

"You have some audacity to ask me such a personal question, you little-pricked asshole!" She snapped at him, feeling the exhaustion of the previous restless night, taking its toll on her.

The Morty chuckled, enjoying toying with her, "It's somewhat amusing that your kind is all for freedom, and liberation of oneself; yet you are rather… eternally monogamous, aren't you?" His eyes seemed to study her.

"Fuck you." Myra snapped, wanting nothing more than to slap the smirk from his face, "If you want to know so bad, you horny, little dick; I can get plenty of schlong."

The Morty looked bemused, "Hmm, you said _'can get'_, not _'I've had'." _ He smirked even wider, "It just seems so… amusing, that someone with such disastrous commitment issues, really only likes to be intimate with the one person."

"Fuck you!" Myra snapped again, "what do you want me to say; that I have been quite the prolific whore in my lifetime?" She was furious, "In the greater scheme of things, my sex life happens to be the least interesting thing, right now."

The Morty chuckled, taking a lengthy gulp of the wine, "on the contrary; I find it extremely interesting."

Myra was far too exhausted to be unsettled by his words, "What the fuck do you want with me?" She was frowning, "Clearly you want something more than to chain me up and interrogate me about my past promiscuous activities."

The Morty shrugged , "I am just so… fascinated; what is so important about you that made Ricks absolutely lose their minds when you left?" The Morty grabbed the bottle of wine and started to pour himself another drink, "What was so _special_ about you that completely fucked up Rick's life?" the Morty shrugged, "We both know that the notion of love is completely ridiculous; yet at the same time your very existence seems to prove the contrary."

Myra was frowning at him, "So what, you want me to make some declaration of _love_, for Rick?" She was clenching her teeth, "Of course, if there was one person, other than my son, who I could love; naturally, it would be Rick!"

The Morty gave her an oddly amused grin, "Not exactly a declaration; you still seem to love dancing around, without ever admitting to anything."

Myra stared at him in irritation, "I'm not going to admit anything to the likes of you. You and your sadism should go and get a room elsewhere. If you have nothing better to do and sit here attempting to play mind games… you have another thing coming."

The Morty smirked at her for several silent moments, before standing up and walking over to the large window, his back towards her, "What exactly could you do, in your current pathetic state?" She could tell he was grinning by the tone of his voice, "You are completely hopeless in this situation; so sit there and try and act otherwise; you'll break eventually."

Myra scowled at him, straining against the cuffs in irritation, "If you weren't some power-hungry asshole with a vendetta…"

"Oh I have a vendetta?" The Morty turned around with a smirk. "Please tell me more, you've piqued my interest."

Myra frowned, "Back in my original dimension…"

The Morty let out a throaty laugh, cutting her off, his eyes were dark as he stared at her, "We both know how well _that_ went for your Rick. I'm not interested in those occurrences in the slightest; what truly interests me is _you_, right now." He turned his gaze back to the window, his gaze trailing across the entire cityscape that was the Citadel. "What you could have achieved in all this time… if you hadn't run away. Would Ricks still be so dependant on their grandsons? Would he have been some kind of contempt if you had been in his life?"

Myra frowned, "Well I _didn't_ hang around. Rick went back to family life… eventually."

"Maybe if you had stayed everything would have turned out better. Perhaps his family would've made it." The Morty's voice was ominous as he glanced over his shoulder at her, "Maybe you were a significant enough person that you could have prevented those choices he made, from _ever_ happening."

Myra glanced up at him, feeling extremely uneasy.

"Conceivably he may have stuck around, rather than abandoning them; if you had been around to keep his head straight." The Morty continued.

Myra scowled then, "He has moments like that all the time!" She attempted to throw her hands up in frustration, only to have the cuffs let out a clatter, "How could I have made a difference to his bloody mood swings?"

"Has he ever seen you die?" The Morty turned around, his dark eyes full of curiosity, "Has he ever let that happen to _you_\- specifically?"

Myra shrugged her shoulders, "He could simply clone me; I am nothing more than a series of brainwaves and biological matter."

"So, that's a _NO_, then?" The Morty shrugged his shoulders, "Yet everyone and everything else in the universe is so replaceable to him – because he's already been forced to replace everything that was once so… _precious_ to him. You're the exception."

The Morty started to stride over to her, "he has an unfathomable attachment to you; his original friend and flame. Just the mere sight of you sends Ricks, even here into a frenzy." He sat on the table right next to her and lifted her chin with his hand, "Because there is something so indescribably _enthralling_ about you and the history with Rick. You were there through virtually every, single important milestone of his life. He… respects you like no other being in the multiverse."

"Take your hands off me, you little shit." Myra hissed at him irritably, attempting to tug her face from is grasp.

The Morty smirked and dropped her chin from his grasp roughly, "You've no notion how much sway you have over Rick. How much responsibility you have to accept for his nihilism and general attitude. It is, after all, mostly your fault he turned out the way he did." He looked bemused as she glared at him, "I can't say that I am unswayed by you myself; then again I am, physically, a teenager." He shrugged his shoulders and stepped down from the table, "But alas, I have grown bored of this conversation." He clapped his hands and two, muscly Morty guards appeared, "Take her back to her cell; take the food in a baggie or something." He waved dismissively.

Myra allowed the two Morty guards to escort her back to the prison cell, her eyes taking note of every guard and security measure that was put into place to keep her contained. Several Ricks seemed to perk up at the sight of her, and attempted to follow, but were scowled at by the Morty guards.

They shoved her into her cell, roughly and closed the translucent barrier behind her.

Her prison cell was nice ; more like a secured, fully-furnished apartment. She had checked every, little nook and cranny for a fault in the security- but they had clearly gone above and beyond making sure there was to be no escape.

Myra's eyes wandered to the barrier entrance as a figure approached, seeing a Rick dressed like a cop approaching. He was holding the tray of food she had been unable to consume in the Morty's conference room.

His eyes locked with hers as he stepped up to the barrier, "Hey, Myra." He said, looking rather unfazed by her, "T-the president said to bring this to you… o-on a silver platter… for ironic reasons, I-I'm assuming." He shrugged his shoulders slightly."

She nodded in response, "I don't suppose it comes with a strong cup of coffee?"

The Rick glanced down at the tray, "Ah… nope. L-looks like there's none of the good stuff here… just space lobster a-and space salad..."

Myra shrugged her shoulders, "I knew it was a long shot…"

The Rick was still paused on the other side of the barrier, staring at her blankly, "I-I'm going to have to ask you to move away from the barrier…"

Myra rolled her eyes with an amused smirk, "I've been rendered useless, if you haven't heard." She said, stepping across to the other side of the room as he flicked his key-card against the locking mechanism.

The barrier shimmered and faded before he stepped through, setting the tray onto the small dining table, "I-I don't like to make assumptions, based off rumour alone, Ma'am."

"So formal." Myra chuckled, starting towards the table, before the cop Rick placed his hand on his pistol. She raised her hands and paused in her tracks, "Sorry, sorry." She grinned, "Wow, you're really a buzzkill for the rules…what's happened to you?"

The Rick backed away, exiting the room and replacing the barrier, "I-I've simply undergone the necessary training… I used to know a Myra like you, don't get me wrong; but I also know how tricky y-you can be."

Myra shrugged her shoulders and walked over to the table, opening the baggie and removing the food, "I'm not doubting that, in the slightest…" She let out a weary sigh as he turned and started to walk away, "I don't suppose…" She cut herself off, shaking her head.

The rick had paused and turned to look at her, "What is it?" He asked, frowning at her sceptically.

"I could really use a friend…" Myra murmured, "Do you think you could keep me company, while I eat?"

The Rick hesitated for a moment, before nodding his head and sitting down outside of the prison cell.

It took an hour to convince the Rick to help her. Far easier than she had anticipated; but she was not about to complain as he set to work, changing the guard profiling process to get a good mix of Ricks in the rotation. Soon enough, there was a plan in place, for a prison break and Myra was feeling rather impressed with herself.

Before the President showed up, giving her a slow, ironic round of applause.

"You've only solidified your reputation for your silver tongue, when it comes to Ricks." The president smirked at her, from outside of the barrier, "Which is why I wanted, _from the start,_ to have only Morty guards." He glanced over his shoulder at the mixture of Rick and Morty guards that were gathered, "Specifically Morty _only_; how did you dense morons become so ok with this sudden change in schedule? You each heard it straight, from my mouth." He shook his head in disbelief, turning his attention back to Myra.

"I didn't want to have to resort to such subterfuge; honestly I'd love nothing more than to be able to have this barrier open so I can kick your ass." She shrugged her shoulders, "But these Ricks are all so, surprisingly, nice. Maybe a gangbang with them wouldn't be so bad…" She was smirking, bemused.

The Morty looked irritated by her words, glancing over his shoulder as a few of the Rick guards let out jeers of approval, "There will be no banging, gang, or otherwise." The President was scowling, "This woman is a master manipulator and will do and say whatever it takes to get out of here."

Myra shrugged her shoulders, smirking at him, "Well, he's not _wrong_!" She made a blowjob motion with her hand and mouth, and more of the Ricks joined in the laughter and cheering.

"ENOUGH!" President Morty screamed, abruptly losing his calm composure. He smoothed down a stray piece of hair that fell in his face and pointed a finger at Myra, "I want her comatose; I don't care what you give her- just render her _completely_ useless…." He paused, turning to face the guards, "On second thought, Paralyse her; she can mentally suffer through being completely useless. We will see how she handles being in such a state for a few weeks… or months." He smirked to himself then, nodding his head.

"You little…" Myra's words were cut off as one of the guards fired a pistol, injecting her with a purple serum. She abruptly fell to the ground in a heap, the room echoed with Morty's dark laughter.

* * *

Ben's eyes flitted to the caller ID, on his phone, as it began to vibrate on the workbench before him. His brow cocked in a mixture of surprise and scepticism as he pressed the answer button.

"Father." Ben said, wedging the phone between his head and shoulder as he tinkered with a contraption.

_"Uhh… hey."_ Rick sounded uncharacteristically mopey, _"I-is your mother there?"_

Ben frowned, unscrewing a fastened cap on the device, "I thought she was with _you._" He muttered into the receiver, "It is not my job to babysit her every time she decides to traipse off somewhere, you know."

_"I-I don't know, aren't you the one with the Oedipus complex, o-or some shit?"_ Rick scowled back at him. _"I-I don't even know what her big problem is. W-we were having fun and then out of nowhere sh-she just VANISHES… AGAIN!" _ He sounded pissed off.

Ben shrugged, "You know mother, better than most." He stated, "I am certain if there was something bothering her; you would be the first person to guess what that was."

Rick let out a frustrated grumble, _"Ugh, whatever. Hey what are you doing, right now?" _

Ben glanced at the complexity of the wiring before him and paused with his tinkering, "Nothing of great importance… _why_?" He asked sceptically.

_"Morty is being a little dickwad a-and wouldn't come with me on this adventure… and with your mother deciding to be MIA…_"

"You are lonely and want some company?" Ben asked in a teasing tone.

_"Hey, Fuck you BeneDICK." _ Rick snapped into the phone, _"I-I mean, i-it's your loss; I was going to go to this awesome, remote location of Quadrant Caribe…"_

Ben rolled his eyes, "Don't get so defensive, father." He muttered, "I will happily accompany you, providing you do not do anything drastically reckless."

There was a shimmer as something de-cloaked behind him. Ben jumped, whirling around to see Rick grinning at him, "Well, what are you waiting for, sonny-boy?" He grinned, "Let's get this party started!"

"Dare I ask how long you have been here, sulking in the shadows?" Ben cocked his brow at his father.

"I-I'd give you a ball-park figure, but I honestly don…t want to ." Rick belched, shrugging his shoulders.

There was a sudden flash of red and a series of monitors folded down from compartments in the ceiling. Ben and Rick glanced upwards, watching something flicker onto the screen.

It was Ben's informant, from the citadel; a homeless-looking Rick, "Ben, BEN!" Rick was muttering into the receiver- the video footage was hazy, "They have a Myra here; word is that she's from your neck of the woods. S-she's in a really bad way… I-I haven't been able to get eyes on her- th-they aren't letting any Ricks near her."

"Ah good, old Myra." Rick was shaking his head in amusement, "Y-you know last time she was there she started a Rick fight club… manipulative bitch that she is."

"W-who's this asshole?" Homeless Rick was frowning.

"This is my father… from my mother's original dimension." Ben said, somewhat dismissively, "Where are they keeping her? Is there any way we would be able to portal close enough…"

"No." The homeless Rick was shaking his head, "They've tightened portal regulations on the entire Citadel; I-if you guys portal even in the surrounding planetary system… there will be guards a-all over you within seconds."

"Ugh, your mother fucking _sucks_!" Rick snapped irritably to Ben. "Just leave her long enough- sh-she'll barge her way right out of there…"

The homeless Rick shook his head, "They've stripped her of any biological alterations that she once had. She's weak, and the president even ordered her to be put in a coma-like state."

Rick's eyes narrowed, "_WHAT_ _president_?"

* * *

**For art for this fanfic go check out my shared Tumblr! ** completely-hypothetical-things


	18. Chapter 18

"Do you think it could be possible you are overreacting to something you deem significant; though you are making attempts to mask your insecurities with anger?" Bird-Person was giving Rick his usual blank stare from across the table.

It had been just over a month since Myra had ended their 'friends with benefits arrangement'. Rick was beyond pent-up and pissed over the situation.

Myra seemed unchanged by the whole thing; she was playing some kind of exotic version of beer pong with Squanchy on the other side of the room.

Rick took a lengthy gulp of his drink and shrugged his shoulders, "A-all I'm saying is I don't know what h…er fucking problem is. Our previous arrangement had many benefits; other than the sex factor." He poked his finger at the table, "It was convenient as hell, for a starter."

Bird-Person blinked slowly, "Has it ever occurred to you that something about the previous relationship arrangement was _in_convenient for _her_?"

Rick made a dismissive snorting sound, "Puh-lease; W-w-we're literally the only two people the other sees; apart from a bunch of.. and I mean no offence… aliens." His eyes wandered to Squanchy and Myra as they let out a cheerful shout and high-fived each other. Squanchy's hand lingered a little too long on Myra's waist before they separated to commence their game.

"Squanchy has another thing com…ing if he thinks she'll bang him." Rick belched, and frowned, turning his gaze back to Bird-Person.

"You were warned from one of our very first interactions, that if you ever screwed things over with her; that we would swoop in." Bird-Person stated, "She is fun, intelligent and attractive; these are all things most would find appealing in a mating partner."

Rick waved his hand dismissively, "Not to mention you guys know all the weird, crazy sex stuff she's willing to do; thanks to my boasting."

"That is but an added bonus." Bird-Person nodded.

Rick frowned and glanced down into his drink, feeling a sense of irritation and sorrow overcoming him.

"Perhaps there is something you can do to alleviate your loneliness and have a chance at… what you would call… revenge?" Bird-Person's eyes seemed to be scrutinizing Rick.

Rick's interest piqued, "Oh yeah? What would that be?" he asked, somewhat doubtful.

"In bird culture, whenever a potential love interest has scorned us we sometimes like to invoke the right of the jealous vulture." Bird-Person said, bopping his head slightly.

Rick frowned "W-w-what the hell does that mean?"

"You find a human that Myra finds annoying and you perform the mating dance with them." Bird-Person nodded.

Rick thought for a moment, "Hmm… t-that it a broad spectrum; Myra hates literally _everyone_."

Bird-person blinked, "Perhaps it was not meant to be; maybe you should make attempts at.."

"W-wait a minute…" Rick cut him off, impatiently, "There was that roommate of hers… that blonde chick." He tapped the table thoughtfully, "Danielle…no Dingle… Die… Dianne!" He said triumphantly, "Y-yeah, that was it… that bloody chick drove her _insane_!"

Bird-Person blinked, "Perhaps I have made a mistake…"

"Oh no-no-no." Rick was grinning, "It's a perfect plan- that blond piece had the hots for me BIG time. This will be like landing a super-easy payload. I'm all about that money-shot; if you know what I mean."

"I do not." Bird-Person blinked, "But I will ask you; is this what you _really_ want to do?"

Rick shrugged his shoulders, "I get a place to stick my dick _AND_ piss off Morty?" He grinned, "I'd consider that a win-win, my friend!" he gulped down the rest of his drink victoriously.

Myra and Squanchy suddenly strode over to the table, flopping down into the spare chairs.

"I don't know how she can squanch like that!" Squanchy was laughing, "Did you guys get a load of that squanch she pulled?"

"Its not my fault you are a limp-dicked bastard, Squanchy." Myra smirked, shrugging her shoulders, "Perhaps next time you will grow a pair and actually _rise_ to the occasion."

"Just what the fuck are you two talking about?_" _Rick snapped a little too angrily.

"Geez, Sanchez." Myra cocked her brow at him, a frown curved her mouth, "What crawled inside you and died?"

"Nothing." Rick muttered dismissively, "Just… that innuendo r-really perturbs me at the moment, Morty." Rick frowned, "I'm blue-balling _majorly_; thanks to you."

She gave him an odd stare and folded her arms across her chest defensively, "Not my problem, Sanchez." She shrugged her shoulders, "There are plenty of other places you can stick it."

Rick grinned at her, "Oh I have intentions to. Actually, that's a perfect segue… Say, do you still have that girl… Dianne's number?"

Myra gave him a quizzical look, "I suppose desperate times do call for desperate measures." She shrugged her shoulders, "Her number is in the contact book I keep by the phone in the kitchen."

Rick grinned at her, and stood up, "Thank y…ou." He belched, "Now if you idiots will excuse me; I have a super keen bas I'd like to go and land… so to speak." He chuckled to himself as he walked off.

"Although he does not want to admit it, he's in pain." Bird-person said, cutting through the silence moments later.

Myra glanced at him, "I'm fairly sure after he chases a few skirts he'll be more than over it." She shrugged, "It'll be far healthier for the both of us to move past this temporary hiccup; seeing other people will be extremely beneficial for our personal growth."

"Does that mean that you are… on the market?" Bird-Person asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Go Squanch somewhere else- I have first dibs." Squanchy growled.

Myra snorted, "You two… I actually think I might give my southern region a nice, long break." She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry, but you'll be stuck in my friendzone for eternity, guys."

Later that night, Myra had eventually returned home. She was only slightly intoxicated; but it was enough to make her feel the surge of emotions she had wanted to suppress. Although she never wanted to admit it; she hated that Rick was so keen to see Dianne. But she needed to let him do whatever the hell he wanted; she couldn't possibly stop him- she didn't own him.

"Well look who's finally home." Rick was smirking at her from the garage, "Not to brag, but I've _totally_ scored myself a night of vigorous sexual activity with that Dianne chick tomorrow."

Myra stared at him for a moment, taking a long time to process the words that had exited his mouth. She didn't want to hear them, however and walked up to him, glancing at the crude contraption he was working on. She pressed her body against him as she reached over to grasp it off the bench.

"What's this?" She murmured, standing up straight and moving the warmth of her body away from his bony frame.

Rick looked distracted, "I-it's uh.. . a prototype for a-a-an energy conversion…"

Myra pressed her body against him again, cutting him off, and placed it back on the workbench, "The one we worked on last week was better." She glanced up into his eyes, before tearing herself away from him and walking over to the junk cabinet. She bent down from the waist as she rummaged through a box on the bottom shelf, making sure to wag her ass.

"W-what are you doing, Morty?" Rick asked, his tone was soft, somewhat confused.

She glanced up at him, "Getting the combustion…"

"No." Rick cut her off, shaking his head, "What are you _doing?"_

She stood up straight, the device they had made the previous week, in her hand. Myra wanted to feign innocence, wanted nothing more than to pretend she had no idea what he was talking about. But she knew that he could see right through her blatant attempts at tempting him.

"Y-you want to pick things up… where they were?" Rick asked, cocking his brow in confusion, "I-I'm not very good at all this hot-then-cold shit you're giving me."

Myra walked over to him, placing the contraption on the bench next to the one he was working on. She wound her arms around him, pulling him close, nudging him back against the workbench.

"Myra…" Rick breathed, his expression pained, hopeless.

She pressed her mouth to the nape of his neck, tracing his Adams apple with her tongue. He drew in a sharp breath, leaning even further back against the workbench.

Her hands tenderly started to lift the bottom of his shirt, and he obliged, lifting it over his head in one, swift motion. His eyes were ravenous as he glanced down at her, his hands starting to fumble with the buttons on her shirt impatiently.

His belt was suddenly free, and his pants unzipped and before he could ask her how the hell she did anything; she pressed her mouth against his.

Rick let out a moan against her mouth, his hands winding around her head to draw her closer. She knew it had been an unspoken rule not to kiss, whenever things go hot and heavy between them; but damn it, she couldn't care less. She let her tongue explore his mouth, tasting him; feeling the warmth of his mouth against hers.

His hands were suddenly cupping her breasts, squeezing them; his callouses scraping against her flesh. Myra let out a moan, breaking away from their kiss to throw her head back slightly. Rick lent down, pressing his hot mouth against her neck, giving her flesh a nip.

"Get on the chair." Myra breathed against him, jerking her head in the direction of the armchair in the corner. It's limp, floral fabric certainly looked like it had seen better days; though it was by far one of the most comfortable items in the room.

Rick smirked down at her, flopping into the armchair.

They sat, panting for several moments, before she stood up and abruptly cleaned the mess . She could feel Rick's gaze upon her and she turned to look at him.

He was smiling at her, his hands resting behind his head, "I uh… guess I can call that pointless date off now. T-there's kind of no point If we're picking things back up.."

She felt herself frowning, "Don't be ludicrous." She said irritably and started to pull her clothes on.

Rick gave her a bewildered scowl, "W-what the fuck do you mean by that?"

"I'm saying go on your date; consider what we just did our last Harrah." She was feeling suddenly sour. "Our arrangement, although built on convenience is nothing more than that; convenient." Myra was avoiding his eyes, "We are simply friends…colleagues- whatever you want to call us. We were using our arrangement to get those primitive needs out of the way; needs we can just as easily use others for."

She glanced up and regretted it instantly. Rick's eyes were dark with anger, "I-is that what you fucking want?" He said, his tone tense, "To frolic around the extensive cock garden and find this _'release'_?" he was scowling as he climbed to his feet, snatching his clothes off the floor, "Do you realise how fucking inconvenient all of t-this is going to be? For the both of us to have to go and _find_ other people a-a-and then make them ready to _sleep_ with us?"

She glared at him irritably, "It's better than the alternative."

Rick was in the middle of pulling his pants on, "Oh no! The _alternative!_" He snarled sarcastically in frustration, "W-w-what's that? T-that we continue to have _fun_? T-that it won't impede our work life in the slightest?" He zipped up his pants and pointed a finger accusingly at her, "Tell me w-what's so fucking terrible about all of _that_?"

"We were practically in a relationship!" Myra snapped, whirling around to glare at him.

"_Oh no, not a-a-a relationship!_" He snapped back sarcastically, "Perish the fucking thought." He frowned at her, "What's a relationship but the interaction/ friendship between individuals anyway, Morty?"

"I don't want to be _trapped_ with _you_." Myra said, her throat seizing in emotion.

Rick gave her an odd expression; a mixture of hurt and anger, before he started towards the door. "Whatever. I-I don't need to deal with this shit _or_ your pathetic insecurities. I'm going to go get a drink."

Myra listened as his footsteps faded towards the front door. He slammed the door as he left; she didn't doubt she had struck an emotional or ego chord with him. Now they were both free from the excuse of convenience; there was nothing getting in their way.

She slumped back against the workbench in confusion. Then why didn't she feel alleviated by the prospect? Why was she so regretful about it all?

* * *

Myra's eyes snapped open and she glanced around the prison cell with a frown. Ever since she had been held on the citadel, she had been having dreams about her past; mostly about the subjects she never wanted to rehash.

Was it truly her fault that Rick had turned into such a nihilistic bastard? No it couldn't be; what happened to his family surely had more sway over that, rather than all the atrocities she had committed during their younger years…. Right?

She let out a weary sigh and sat up on the small bed, glancing around to see the few Morty guards who were standing around the barrier. They didn't so much as glance at her as she stood up to make a coffee in the small kitchen space within her cell. They were so indifferent to her; so unimpressed by her- so what was up with the President Morty's keen interest in her?

Myra's eyes wandered to the surveillance cameras that were spotted about the ceiling and a frown curved her mouth. What was he so interested in, anyway? Sure, she was Rick's long-time friend… there was history there, but what was so intriguing about the past?

Her eyes wandered back to the front of her cell as the corridor door opened and a series of Federation guards started filling the space around her cell.

Myra sipped her coffee, watching as a young, brunette woman stepped forward, with President Morty beside her.

"So it's all true?" Myra asked, sipping her coffee once more, "You dicks have completely sold out."

"Is this her?" The younger woman asked the president as they stopped before her cell, "_This_ is what all the fuss is about?" She made a gesture of disgust and disbelief, "_Really?_"

"I know you can not see the depth of her importance, in this instance," President Morty shrugged, "But it really doesn't matter- this is the woman."

"Huh…" The younger woman's face went blank and she shrugged, "Myra Mortimer; I guess I finally get the chance to formally introduce myself…My name is Tammy…"

"Like I care." Myra frowned, gulping down what remained of her coffee, "The Federation being in bed with the Citadel… now that's interesting." She cocked her brow, glancing between President Morty and Tammy, "But I'm really not into the soap opera bullshit; just give me an explanation as to why you morons are so interested in keeping me here."

There was the sound of metal clunking and a shadowy figure stepped forward.

Myra's eyes went wide in disbelief, "Bird-Person?!"

"I am Phoenix Person." The cyborg-implanted Bird Person said mechanically.

Myra stared at him, completely dumbfounded by what they had done to her friend, her heart sinking, "You're the piece of shit who tricked everyone into thinking you were marrying him." She hissed, glaring at Tammy, who merely smirked in response.

"Well now, there's an expression I haven't seen yet…" The president Morty was smirking, "I bet you wish you had been around to receive that wedding invite, rather than sulking in the shadows." He grinned at Myra, "I can honestly tell you; in that reality all of you made it out alive and well."

The Tammy made a dismissive grunting noise, "Let's not get into the details of what would have been; we are merely interested in the intrigue of _her_." She pointed at Myra.

"E-excuse me, Mr President?" A Morty guard called, rushing into the room, "T-those protesters are back; t-they're getting really rowdy out there, sir."

The president turned around with a scowl, "What protesters?"

"T-the ones calling out about the 'one true Morty'… Y-you know, the cult- following ones." The guard muttered back awkwardly in response.

The President rolled his eyes, turning back to glare at Myra, "I don't care what you do with them; there is no such thing as 'the one, True Morty.'"

Myra shrugged her shoulders, "There is no such thing as a one 'true' anything- that's like trying to define what 'normal' is." She frowned, "Just like you guys can go suck a fat one, if you think that I am going to sit around here any longer and take this shit." She pointed her finger at them accusingly, a smirk curving her lips, "It pays to always be living life by the seat of your dick."

Tammy stared back and forth between the President and Myra, "What the hell is she talking about?"

There was a bright flash and the barrier around Myra's cell flickered; the floor suddenly vanished from beneath her feet. Myra gave a sarcastic salute, before she plummeted into the darkness below.

* * *

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**Smut version of this chapter Is on AO3**


	19. Chapter 19

"How much value do you place on dreams?" Ben was glancing at the back of Rick's head from the rear seat of the space car.

Rick was glancing out into the emptiness of space, momentarily glimpsing over his shoulder at his son with a frown, "I-I don't know; dreams aren't really anything more than our brains firing around chemicals while we a-are in a rested state." He shrugged his shoulders, turning back around to stare out the window, "t-they say that acetylcholine is powerful stuff…" he let out a weary burp and glimpsed at Ben again, "W-why are you asking such a-a moronic question, Dick?"

Ben shrugged his shoulders, "Often I like to think that it is our subconscious thoughts manifesting, due to the chemistry, which occurs in a rested state." He was frowning, "I often have the most peculiar dreams; no matter how much logic I try and decipher them with, they all still seem quite bizarre."

Rick cocked his brow, letting curiosity get the better of him, "Some kid of weird sex dreams, hey?" He made a chuckling noise and turned around to face the front again, "I-I guess the apple really do…esn't fall far from the tree."

Ben leant towards the front of the car, "You know, I asked mother a similar question when I was younger." He said, his tone matter-of-fact.

"You asked your mother about _sex dreams_?" Rick asked, perplexed.

"No." Ben scowled, "I asked her about how much value she placed on dreams." He said, as if he was daring his father to ask more.

Rick let out a sigh, taking the bait, "Oh yeah?" He asked curiously, "W-what did mother-dearest have to say on the matter."

"Surprisingly, she can be quite superstitious about dreams." Ben was smirking, "insisting it was our subconscious trying to warn us about something."

Rick was smirking, "Good, ol' Myra." He shook his head.

There was a few moments of silence, before Ben climbed into the front of the car- his lanky body briefly bumping Rick, who scowled in response.

"Tell me something about mother that I do not know." Ben asked, seemingly perking up at the prospect.

Rick shrugged his shoulders, "Uhh…" He trailed off, "Sh-she has a nickname for my parts… she likes to call it Peter Dangle-age."

Ben screwed up his face, "why must you always take serious conversation to such ludicrous places?" he frowned, "You know very well that is not what I meant."

Rick scowled, "w-what do you expect me to say? I am guessing your mother was very liberal with information a-and the only th…ing she didn't divulge was her sex-life!"

Ben screwed up his face, "Trust me she was overly-generous with the details on _that_ as well." He shook his head, "Look, you have known my mother since she was _six years old_. Surely there is something… an adventure, a mishap… anything that may have slipped her mind over the years?"

Rick was frowning in annoyance, "Geez, y-you're even more frustrating than _Morty_."

Ben was staring at him, "I am simply trying to fill in pointless silence."

Rick made a noise of agitation and thought hard, "I-I don't know… how much detail of my wedding day did she share with you?" Rick asked in annoyance.

Ben shrugged his shoulders, his eyes focused on Rick intently, "Actually, that was something she was extremely short on details about."

Rick shrugged his shoulders, "Ok, w-well I guess I can start by saying that Dianne was annoyed at the prospect Myra was my best man; she wasn't a fan of her being there on the front-line, to say the least." He said, glimpsing at Ben, who was smirking in amusement, "Myra got _SUPER_ high and drunk that day- was doing the craziest things; Dianne wanted to kill her." Rick couldn't help but smirk at the memory.

"Did she ruin the day?" Ben asked curiously.

Rick snorted, "If anything, sh-she somehow made it all the more bearable." Rick snorted, "I even joined her and Squanchy for a snort of the blue stuff in a broom closet."

"Colaxian crystals?" Ben cocked his brow curiously.

Rick smirked wider, "Yeah, among other things; your mother used to be quite the drug cocktail queen."

Ben shook his head in disbelief, "That was definitely left off her information list." He was smiling faintly.

There was another moment of silence, before Rick cleared his throat, his mind ticking away curiously, "So… I am guessing your mother has said all of the bad things about me?"

Ben snorted, "That would be an understatement." He smirked, and sat up straighter in the chair, "Actually, she was always very biased, when it came to you."

Rick's brow scrunched in confusion, "W-what do you mean?"

Ben stared at him with a dubious expression, "Because she is so clearly fond of you, old man."

A strange sensation of surprise and joy suddenly peaked throughout Rick's body, hearing it. He quickly composed himself, frowning irritably.

"Don't be a-a wiener, Dick." He frowned, "Myra i-is the farthest thing from _fond_ of anyone, other than y-you, I guess." He pulled his flask out and took a swig, briefly glancing at Ben, who was staring at him in sheer amusement, "What?" He snapped.

"Oh nothing." He smirked wider, "I just find the whole situation between you and mother completely entertaining. Both so in denial about everything; both so adamant that there is some other rationality to explain away something you both find inconvenient and illogical."

"Listen here, Diogenes…" Rick snapped irritably, "Sometimes body chemistry i-is just that; stop trying to give higher purpose to something th-that doesn't exist." He scowled.

Ben shrugged his shoulders, "I've heard her say it, you know." He glanced out the window.

Rick scowled, taking the bait once again, "What?" He snapped angrily.

"That she _loves_ you. That everything she knew was a lie and leaving you was the worst mistake she had ever made." He said matter-of-fact, "Of course, she was _completely _delirious on Korblockian roofy gas; though, she was at her most mentally vulnerable…"

Another pang of surprise and joy suddenly jolted through Rick. It took slightly longer for him to recover his composure; he shook his head in annoyance to attempt to clear it.

"Stop it, you little shit!" He spat irritably, "Time to cut t-the shit; we're here!" he growled, motioning to a little speck of yellow, which was their planetary destination.

Ben smirked and shook his head, "Whatever you say, father."

* * *

Myra became aware of blinding, hot pain, moments before she opened her eyes.

She snapped awake, glancing around the surrounding debris, and clenching her teeth to prevent from screaming. Her legs were both broken and she had been impaled on a rebar, right through her lower abdomen.

Her blood was flowing, sticky and hot around her.

She placed her hand around the bar, feeling the crimson liquid oozing out of the wound; her consciousness borderline as she started to feel the world fading around her.

"Shit, Myra are you ok?" It was a Rick who was clambering over the rubble towards her, "J-99; y-you're fucking calculations were off by a mile, you asshole!" He scowled, reaching into his pocket to withdraw a gun-like object.

He was surprisingly strong, he ripped the bar clean from her; the last thing she remembered was the sound of her own, agonised scream echoing through the tunnels, before the world went black.

When she finally came to, she was all healed. She sat up, glancing around the darkness with surprised eyes.

A Rick was suddenly beside her, dressed somewhat like a nurse. "Shh-shh." He shushed her before she could make a noise, "Y-you're all healed up; we even went through t….the trouble of restoring that typical Myra strength and indestructability." He smirked as she stared at him in bewilderment, "Welcome to the resistance." He motioned around.

Myra glanced about the underground bunker, her eyes snapping around all the Ricks and Mortys that made up the meagre numbers of the resistance. They were all filthy; no doubt from crawling about the underground levels beneath the citadel. A lot of them were wearing orange and cream uniforms, of some kind; though they were covered in filth and grime.

"Hey, you're awake!" A Rick grinned at her, making his way towards her, "We were surprised to hear from a Myra- Let alone someone who associates with the Terrorist Rick!" He was grinning, "But hey, who am I to judge?" He held out his hand. "Rick C-127; just a few quantum leaps from where you hail from, am I right?" He winked at her.

Myra swung her legs out of the make-shift hospital bed and there were suddenly Ricks around her, ushering her to be careful.

She jerked away from their good-intending hands, "Don't touch me!" She snapped, "I can do it myself." She growled, standing up slowly.

"C-127, t-there are above ground reports of a lock-down." A Morty frowned nervously as he raced into the room, "A few of the down-town resistance members a-are trying to scramble the jamming sequence, as we speak."

C-127 straightened up, "Very good…" He frowned, and turned to Myra, "Rest assured, w-we will get you out of here, as soon as we can. That little shit we are currently calling president seems to really have a thing for you."

"Pfft, don't give her a bigger ego than she already has." A surly-looking Rick in a particularly grimy outfit frowned, "Nothing is worse than a cocky Morty."

A few other Ricks let out mutters of concurrence, and C-127 held up his hand to silence them.

"Now is not the time for making statements." C-127 frowned, his eyes focused on Myra, "I have something to show you." He said, motioning towards a nearby tunnel.

Myra frowned and followed after him, watching as the Ricks began to disperse back into their work stations.

C-127 let out a weary sigh, "As you know, there was a cross-dimensional purging of Myra's; no thanks to your little 4th dimension crystal fiasco." He muttered, his voice echoing through the dark tunnel as they walked, "but there are some of us who never gave up the search; what we turned up was quite surprising."

They entered a larger room, which was well-lit and sterile in appearance. The overall vibe gave Myra the impression of a surgical room, as her eyes wandered over the large control consoles and screens, which lined the far wall.

C-127 walked over to the nearest control panel, his fingers quickly typing in several commands, until a large panel folded down from the roof before them. An image flickered on the screen. It was a rough map of a dimensional void.

"Oh wow…" Myra muttered sarcastically, "Everyone knows that dimensional rifts open up all the time."

"This one is different." C-127 frowned, "Listen here Knobi-wan." He frowned at her, "Because you' re our only hope."

Myra folded her arms across her chest, "in all honesty I was genuinely hoping to just get off this city of circle-jerking."

The rick smirked at her, "well, we aren't going to let you go so easily- you see, we are planning the ultimate uprising against the president… but we need your help." He pointed at the screen, "This happens to be your own circle-jerkfest."

"What?" Myra asked, glancing at the screen.

"I-it seems your kind isn't so different from mine." He smirked at her, "Seems you _really_ like to jerk yourself off with all the fanciness; you see, inside that void happens to be a citadel of Myras." He shrugged, "Or whatever the equivalent would be in Myra terms."

Myra pinched the bridge of her nose in embarrassment and frustration, "Fuck." She swore sourly.

"Let me guess, you want me to infiltrate this…society… and convince them to join your cause?" She let out an agitated sigh.

"I'd say 'if you don't mind'- but we both know that this would be your ultimate peeve." C-127 grinned at her, cocking his brow in amusement, "So, what I am really saying, is strap yourself in, because you're going there and convincing _them_ that joining _us_ is within their best interests."

Myra glimpsed at him in annoyance, "Oh I think it will be harder to convince them to not come here and _kill_ you all." She shrugged.

The Rick smirked at her, and tilted her chin upwards so she was looking at him, "I forgot what a turn-on that fiery personality was." He grinned, "How about we momentarily forget this plan and you just do me- right here, right now?"

Myra tore herself away from his grasp, "Oh wow, what a generous offer- how about you take matters into your own _hand_, for that particular situation?"

He grinned at her widely, "Only if you want to watch." He chuckled.

Myra frowned at him, "I have no interest in watching a master baiter."

"I-I assure you I am quite the fisherman." C-127 smirked wider, "Although i-I am better a-at fucking."

Myra smirked at him, "I wasn't aware Mrs Palmer was so full of praise."

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway and C-127 and Myra turned their gazes, to see a Morty standing there, holding a folded suit in his arms.

"Sorry for the interruption, sir…" He muttered nervously, "But the scrambler Ricks have told me i-its stable- I-it's time, sir." He said, glancing around awkwardly.

C-127 nodded his head, and turned back to Myra, "Ok, I guess our verbal foreplay is over; for now." He winked, "time to move onto phase two of this operation."

Myra frowned, "I'd really rather not." She frowned, "Last time I ran into other versions of myself…"

"Just pull your head o-out of your ass; I'm sure they will welcome you with open arms." C-127 snorted, snatching the suit off the Morty and thrusting it into her hands, "Suit up; our boycotting portal is rather harsh on anything that isn't coated in anti-matter fibre."

Myra let out a weary sigh, resigned to the fact she would have to go through with C-127's bizarre plan.

* * *

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	20. Chapter 20

The sounds radiating from outside the janitor's closet, signalled to Myra that Rick's wedding reception was in full-swing. She was slumped against the wall, her legs sprawled out for comfort as she glanced around at all the cleaning chemicals, which were lining the shelves.

In her hand, she was holding a small baggie of fluorescent blue powder; one of her special concoctions. It was a mixture of powdered crystals, and varying other ingredients; It was potent, enough to make her forget about the nagging irritations that had been overwhelming her mind all morning.

How could Rick be such a sell-out; what was so fucking special about Diane that made him so willing to throw his life away?

She shook her head, as though to try and clear the thought as the music seemed to boom even more outside. She could feel the vibrations thumping against the wall and she let out a miserable sigh.

Initially, when Rick and Diane had started dating, she had assumed it would be a brief fling. Yet, somewhere along the line Rick had actually fallen for the manipulative, piece of trash that Diane was. The whole situation had annoyed Myra for years. Sadly, there was nothing she could do about it; Rick was clearly crazy about Diane.

Myra glimpsed up as the closet door creaked open slightly, revealing a concerned-looking Bird Person.

"I am relieved to have found you; your absence has caused quite some distress." He muttered, stepping inside the closet and closing the door behind him, "May I ask why you are hiding away from the festivities?"

"I'm having a party in here, all of my own!" Myra grinned at Bird Person, shaking the small baggie enthusiastically, "_WAY_ more fun than that sorry excuse for a party out there." She motioned, jerking her chin towards the door.

Bird Person crouched down on the ground before her, his dark eyes seemed to be studying her intently, "You are not pleased that Rick has performed a melding with Diane?"

Myra let out a snort, "I thought I have been quite vocal in my disapproval for this entire situation?" She smirked intoxicatedly, "I even _objected_ at the ceremony; much to Diane's annoyance."

"You have been excessively intoxicated all day." Bird Person stated, nodding his head in a matter-of-fact motion. "Apart from receiving multiple angry stares from Diane; your ludicrous actions have achieved nothing."

Myra shrugged her shoulders, "Well, guess I can't always be a winner." She said, feeling her mouth form a frown. "I'm just angry and frustrated that we're going to lose Sanchez, you know?"

Bird Person slumped against the wall next to her, "I highly doubt we will miss out on Rick's companionship for very long. He is not one to 'settle down', so to speak. I doubt family life will be able to sate his appetite for the unknown."

Myra sighed, "Maybe you are right, Pers." She glanced at him, "I think that despite everything, everyone has this inexplicable fear of being alone; I guess a part of me believed Rick would be that permanent fixture, of sorts, in my life."

"Then why end your intimate relations?" Bird Person looked visibly confused, breaking away from his typical stoic expression.

Myra let out a lengthy sigh of weariness, "I guess I was just being a coward." Myra frowned.

"Rick once confided in me on the day that he accidentally let slip that he loved you." Bird Person stated, his expression returned to its usual stoniness. "I probably should not tell you more than that."

Myra snorted and rolled her eyes, "Oh yeah? You ever heard that 'I love you' shit before? Let alone from _Sanchez?_"

Bird Person blinked, "Have you ever considered that he may have been expressing genuine feelings?"

Myra was frowning as she looked down at the floor beneath her, "Would that have really made a difference?"

"Sometimes people walk into our lives and we cannot believe that they truly like, let alone appreciate us for who and what we are." Bird Person stated plainly, "When you cross paths with someone you share a unique connection with, it is all the more confronting. Sometimes, as individuals, we are often so highly aware of all our imperfections; we do not understand how anyone could ever be so profanely fond of us."

Myra considered his words momentarily, "Maybe… I guess a part of me was really worried he would get bored with everything and leave. He isn't one to stay still very long; he has the attention span of a gnat sometimes."

Bird Person nodded his head slowly, "He does seem to flitter from invention to invention." He paused momentarily, "The only time I have ever seen him contempt and focused on a singular task, is when you were together. I think he was more clear-of-mind during those times; like he knew what he wanted in life."

Myra rolled her eyes, "Please, if Sanchez was so happy with me; he wouldn't be out there right now, dancing with his _wife_." She snorted, "He's settled for a life of _complacency_."

"Would you have preferred it being _you_ out there?" Bird Person frowned at her, "Is some part of you, deep down, screaming out about this whole situation? Perhaps that is why you have secluded yourself and inebriated yourself all day."

"How about fuck you, Pers." Myra frowned.

"I will take that as a confirmation I have 'hit the nail on the head', as you humans like to say." Bird Person nudged her slightly, "I suggest you return to the festivities- although you may believe your absence has gone unnoticed; it was actually Rick who sent me to find you." He stood up and offered her his hand.

Myra took it, rolling her eyes as he pulled her to her feet, "You're one of the good ones, Bird Person." She smiled, "I bet in another dimension the two of us are doing it right now."

Bird Person stared at her, "I cannot say that I am not tempted by the thought."

Myra nudged him and reached for the door handle, pausing momentarily. She glanced at Bird Person and ruffled the feathers on top of his head and skewed his clothing slightly, then quickly adjusted her own appearance to look similarly dishevelled.

"I kind of want to hear the _gossip_!" Myra shrugged at him when he gave her a perplexed glance.

"I will not object to this plan." Bird Person stated as she opened the door.

Myra bumped into someone the moment she stepped out of the closet, glancing up into the confused eyes of Rick.

"There you are!" He grinned at her, pausing briefly to look from her to Bird Person. His expression dropped and he cocked an eyebrow, "Did you two…?"

Bird Person was quick to answer, "It was her intention to make it look like we had. Although we have not, I cannot say I am opposed to such attention."

Rick shrugged his shoulders, "Honestly I-I don't think there is a member of Diane's family that doesn't already think that we've gangbanged Myra already…. T-they're not exactly fans of hers…" He grinned at Myra, giving her a slight wink, "Not that I really give two shits about w-what those dip-knobs think!"

Myra found herself smirking in response to him, "Surprised I haven't been asked to leave yet?"

Rick laughed, somewhat nervously, "Trust me, if it was up to Diane alone, you _would_ have been kicked out… really, if she had her way- you'd probably not be here at all, Morty."

Myra shrugged her shoulders, "Sucks to be her then."

He chuckled, "Y-yeah she kind of drew the short straw on this one." He slapped her on the back, his eyes widening at the sight of the baggie in her hands, all of a sudden, "I-is that what I think that is?"

"Damn right it is." Myra grinned back at him.

Rick dragged a hand through his hair, as though he was fighting the temptation, "Diane made me throw all of my stash out weeks ago!"

Myra grinned wider, "Sucks to be _you_. Who's the sell-out now, Sanchez?"

Rick scoffed at her, "Fuck you Morty."

Bird Person suddenly stepped forward, "I must interrupt your petty squabbling to ask Myra to come and dance." He stated, "Judging by that glare that Diane is giving us, I would say it is the best way for you to get out of this situation unscathed."

Rick and Myra quickly glanced across the room, where Diane was scowling at them, her hands folded tightly across her chest; her foot tapping the floor impatiently.

Myra snorted, taking Bird Person's hand instantly, "Good luck with consummating your marriage tonight!" She cackled, letting Bird Person lead her away towards the dancefloor. She abruptly tucked the baggie away inside her bra and glanced up as Bird Person made a strange noise, almost as though he was clearing his throat.

"It would be wise if you were to stop provoking her." He said with a seriousness, "It will only make matters worse, and a friendship all the more impossible for you and Rick."

Myra rolled her eyes as they started to dance, she could feel many eyes upon them, "Please, I am hardly exacerbating things; it's not my fault that she's such a control freak."

Bird Person's expression changed into an uncharacteristic frown, "You are hardly letting them have a chance. I suggest you put aside any feelings of hostility you have towards her and let Rick have the chance to be happy."

Myra felt a pang with his words, feeling slightly taken aback.

"I suppose you're right." She said, hanging her head. She glanced up as Rick and Diane suddenly joined several other couples on the dance floor with them. She watched them for a few moments, seeing them smile as they looked into each other's eyes. They truly were happy, weren't they?

The song ended and Myra turned to Bird Person with a smile, "Thanks for talking some sense into me, Pers. Like I keep on saying; you are one of the good ones."

He inclined his head, "I appreciate hearing that."

There was a sudden tap on Myra's shoulder, and she turned around to meet a stranger's gaze.

He was tall, dark and handsome; everything normal women would cream themselves over.

But Myra wasn't most girls.

"What?" She asked, perhaps too testily.

"My name is Roberto; Diane's boss." He said, offering his hand along with his introduction, "I was hoping to have the next dance?"

Myra resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "Sorry, I'm kind of all danced out; although I am trying to turn over a new leaf, I'd ideally give people a wide berth if they associate with Diane."

Roberto's mouth curved into a pleasant smirk, "That is precisely the reason for the dance invitation; I'm not exactly a fan of hers, either. I could judge by today's antics that you hold her in quite low regard."

Myra felt herself grinning, despite herself, "Did we just become friends through mutual hatred?" she found herself shaking his hand, "My name is Myra, by the way."

Roberto took her hand and chuckled, the deep sound was quite pleasing, "shall we?" He asked, taking her hand and motioning towards the dance floor.

"We shall." She let him lead her, his movements were smooth, almost expert as he swung her into his arms.

The song started, and he twirled her around once, tugging her back into his firm grasp.

"So, tell me…" Myra grinned, "If you despise her so much; why not fire her?"

Roberto considered her words momentarily, "To put it simply, she is quite exceptional at her job; I don't doubt she would take all of her clientele with her, were she to leave."

Myra nodded, making an expression of understanding plausibility, "She does seem to know how to gather quite the following of loyalists."

Roberto nodded, "Precisely… Buti must ask; how do you know the bride and groom- more specifically the groom, considering you are the 'best man' ." He grinned, glancing up and down her tuxedo suit.

"Well, Rick and I were neighbours growing up; kind of inseparable friends." She said, simply, "I can't exactly remember a day where he wasn't in my life- so this whole situation has really thrown me off."

Roberto smiled at her; the sight seemed to radiate warmth, "I don't understand what he sees in Diane, when the perfect woman has been right there, practically all of his life."

Myra rolled his eyes at the sappy statement, "Please; define 'perfect'; it is nothing more than a social ideology to make people feel like outcasts." She snorted, gasping slightly as he pulled her closer to him.

"I daresay a smart, beautiful, passionate and fiery woman, such as yourself; you're pretty damn near perfection to me." His gaze was intense; the whole room seemed to fade away around them.

She let out a snort, "I'd like my conversation with _less_ cheese, please."

"You don't like compliments?" He cocked his brow at her.

"On the contrary; I _love _them- they boost my already overly-inflated ego." Myra smirked at him, "But I'd prefer them spoken without the ulterior motives behind them."

Roberto seemed to consider her words momentarily, "If I didn't know any better; I'd think you were expecting that I am merely making moves at getting into your pants…"

Myra snorted, "Aren't you?"

Roberto chuckled, "I'd be lying if I denied that was one of the reasons I'd decided to come over and talk to you in the first place. I do like myself an attractive redhead."

Myra rolled her eyes, "Less cheese, more moves, pretty boy."

Roberto's eyes seemed to twinkle with delight as he whirled her about once again, tugging her back into a firm hold, "Are you calling me attractive?"

Myra snorted, "Are you an idiot too; only a half-baked moron would think otherwise. You're conventionally attractive; look at all of those women ogling you, even now."

Roberto's dark eyes wandered around the room with little interest, "Boringly attractive, would you say?"

Myra shrugged her shoulders, "Everything at surface level is only superficial."

The song ended and they stopped dancing; Roberto was smiling at her, "Thank you; for the dance and for the breath of fresh air." His hands were lingering on her waist as he glanced down at her.

"Oh, hey _boss_!" Rick and Diane were suddenly beside them. Diane looked slightly uneasy at the sight of Roberto and Myra together- she was chuckling nervously, "Imagine you and Myra… dancing… _together_.." She let out a forced laugh.

Rick was letting out a similarly forced laugh, "Yeah… geez w-were you carved in a Grecian god likeness, or what?" He glanced up and down Roberto, "W-would I be _wrong_ to assume that you're packing a six-pack under that suit?"

"Rick… please, he's me _boss_!" Diane hissed in a low tone.

"It's been real pleasant, _Roberto_." Myra said, feeling his name come out of her mouth sarcastically, before she turned towards the bar.

She plonked herself down on a stool before the bar and motioned to the bartender, "I could really use a few shots of Everclear over here. Straight- none of that watered down bullshit"

The bartender gave her an odd expression, before searching through the bottles at the very top for a few moments, before pulling out a translucent bottle, with a bland navy, silver and red label. He walked over to her with a frown and poured three shots.

"You do realise he's probably going to have to cut you off after that?" Roberto was suddenly sitting beside her.

"No he won't, will you buddy-boy?" Myra winked at the bartender who rolled his eyes and walked away.

"Have you ever entertained the idea of being sober for the rest of the night?" Roberto asked, signalling for a drink of his own.

Myra threw back the first shot, "Please, and give my liver a holiday?"

"Is the substance abuse a new development, or is it something I will have to worry about, for future endeavours?" Roberto asked, cocking a brow curiously.

"It's a sometimes kind of deal; or a most of the time thing, when my best friend is getting _married_." Myra grumbled, already feeling the effects of the Everclear .

"Does Rick mean that much to you?" Roberto asked, his eyes studying her intently.

Myra rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders, "It's really hard having a nearly lifetime relationship with someone, without that person meaning _something_."

"You two had an intimate relationship, at one point?" Roberto said, more as a statement than a question.

Myra scowled at him, "don't you pull that psycho-analysis bullshit on me. I _despise_ people who think they know better than you… just because they _think_ they know what is going on inside your head…." She was slurring as she tapped the side of her head, "You can't get in here, Mr." She reached for the second shot, only to have Roberto snatch it up and gulp it down.

He smirked at her, "I'd much rather you sober for the rest of this evening."

She smirked back at him, "Fine…" She muttered, forcing another eyeroll.

The hours seemed to past swiftly. Between Roberto's conversation, dancing and overall distractions from what was happening; Myra actually found she was enjoying herself.

The fact that Diane was in a state of a mixture of worry and anger, only fuelled her gratification with Roberto's company. It had been far too long since Myra had felt some form of thrill with being in someone's company.

So, at the end of the night, when he offered to walk her to her room; she didn't object or make a fuss.

She momentarily locked eyes with Rick, who was also headed back to his room with Dianne. He gave her an odd expression, one which she hadn't seen before as he looked from Roberto, to herself and then forced a grin with a thumbs up.

Myra smirked back at him in response, making a crude gesture by wagging her tongue between her two fingers and he audibly laughed, before disappearing around the corner of the hall.

She stopped before her bedroom door, briefly reaching into her bra to retrieve the key.

"How many things do you keep in there?" Roberto chuckled.

"I keep _everything_ in there." Myra grinned, swiftly opening the door, pausing to look at him, "I am assuming you'd like to come inside?"

"A very tempting offer; but I think I will stop by, later in the morning; just to make sure you are completely clear of mind." He smirked at her, staring down at her with is deep, dark chocolatey eyes.

She tilted her head up towards him, grasping him closely as she kissed him.

It was only in this moment, which she realised it was the first time she was kissing someone and not recoiling from it. She kissed him passionately, feeling the thrill when he returned it with equal passion. His arms wound around her, drawing her against him firmly, exploring the contours of her form.

He broke away a moment later, a devilish smirk curved his mouth, "I's better stop now, before I am unable to control myself any longer."

"Don't make me beg." Myra breathed, staring up at him eagerly.

He chuckled at her, "Come morning time; provided you aren't too hung over. We will have breakfast and see if we still enjoy each other's company." He winked at her.

Myra let out a sigh of weariness, "Fine." She muttered, "I will see you in the morning." She stepped inside her room and peered over her shoulder at him one more time, before she closed the door.

A few more sleepless hours ticked by slowly.

She became so restless that she decided to head to the building's rooftop for some fresh air. She was slightly surprise t see the stairwell's door to the roof was already propped open with a cinderblock. When she stepped outside she was even more surprised to see Rick, staring out into the city lights with a sorrowful expression.

"Sanchez…" Myra muttered, stepping up beside him to lean on the ledge, "Surprised you aren't in your room, _thoroughly _consummating your marriage." She chuckled, staring at his solemn face.

He forced a smile, one side of his mouth curved with some effort, before he let out a weary sigh, "I-I'm kinda having second thought about all of this, Morty." He said, his brow pinching together, "Suddenly this all just feels… wrong, I guess…" he was frowning, briefly making eye contact with her. "I-I mean, I've never really been certain about wanting to spend every day of my life with Diane… have I-I just made the worst mistake of my life?" He looked at her, his eyes almost begging her for an honest answer.

Myra cleared her throat, glancing out towards the city, "Although you know my own, personal, feelings about marriage and commitment… I think that you and Diane are crazy about each other; I've seen the way you two look at each other… and, although it sickens me to say… I think you two will have a long, happy marriage together because you are so _in love_." She nudged him playfully and he chuckled at her.

"Shut up, Morty." He snorted at her. He cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing around as though he was ashamed to have been minutely emotional, "So… Diane's boss?" He cocked his brow at her.

Myra rolled her eyes, "Yes he's everything wet dreams are made of… I imagine being physical with him would be equally satisfactory."

"_Imagine?"_ Rick smirked widely, "Geez, can't even seal the deal, Morty."

Myra elbowed him playfully again, "Shut up!" She chuckled at him, "He wants to be the perfect gentleman; I guess that's the number one sign that an evening with him would only be a once-off deal."

Rick grinned, "Man must be so blue-balled; spending the entire night touching and groping you… to n-not even get to relieve that… tension." He chuckled to himself and shook his head.

"The _entire_ night?" Myra glanced at him, "Surely you have not been watching us all night?"

Rick cleared his throat awkwardly, "I-i-it was kinda hard _not_ to. Plus, Diane was super worried you were going to make a bigger dick of yourself… y'know he's her boss and all…"

Myra watched Rick's brow furrow momentarily before she placed her hand on his, giving him a reassuring pat, "I will admit I am truly thrilled to see you so happy; no matter if the person behind your joy is Diane. I can't despise her for making you so blissful."

Rick glanced down at their touching hands, and then back up into her eyes, "I-I am happy…I'm also very over the fucking moon t-that you're here. W-wouldn't have been a celebration without you, Morty!" He slung his arm around her shoulder and they stared out towards the city once more.

Myra grinned, feeling the contempt of being in Rick's company, "A hundred years of Rick and Morty…." She smiled, her eyes wandering over the city lights.


	21. Chapter 21

"Would you like to hold her?"

The unexpected question, from Diane, caused Myra to practically jump in surprise.

She looked down at the pretty, blonde woman poised so perfectly within the hospital bed, practically radiating with joy as she held the little bundle within her arms. Myra nodded her head, somewhat slowly, before the other woman handed her the most precious thing she had ever laid eyes on.

Baby Beth; the most adorable and surprising thing that had happened in their lives, since the wedding. Rick cleared his throat.

"Beth… or Bethany, after Dee's grandmother." He shrugged his shoulders, "She's something." He was beaming with a similar radiance to his wife; sitting on the bed next to Diane, watching Myra with sheer happiness.

Myra's eyes wandered over the perfect, little face; so peacefully asleep. A strange surge of emotion and longing suddenly tugging at her heart.

There was a chuckle from beside Myra, and an arm slung around her, "Oh dear, you know what they say about women and babies." Roberto gave Rick a bemused wink.

"Don't be ludicrous, Rob." Myra hissed at him, then proceeded to coo at baby Beth, who was still sleeping with peaceful contempt, "Babies aren't exactly on my 'to-do' list."

The years had passed with a great deal of civility. Myra and Diane were getting along, rather well; Dianne seemed thrilled that Myra was 'dating' someone- even if that person was her boss. Although. their relationship was more on-again-off-again.

Diane was less and less concerned about Rick's shenanigans, which had definitely given Rick and Myra a lot of time to work on bigger and better things. They had certainly amped up their interdimensional adventures over the years.

"Please, one mention of _marriage_ a-and Myra would be running for the hills, am I right?" Rick snickered, and they all chuckled in unison.

Myra's eyes were still focused on the bundle of fresh life within her arms. It was strange, she had never once had the urge to have a child of her own; but holding something so perfect… a complete mixture of two person's genetic matter…. there was a strange mixture of fascination and biological yearning that was suddenly overwhelming her.

She found herself rocking, swaying out of sheer instinct as she stared down at Beth's little button nose, watching as her face twitched ever so slightly in her sleep.

Myra cleared her throat after a long moment, and abruptly handed her back to Diane, "Well, I must say 'very nice work'." She said, somewhat defensively as Rick and Diane gave her smug grins, "She's… perfect." She seemed to choke up with emotion all of a sudden and she cleared her throat to get past the lump that had formed in her throat.

"Still no urge to have one of your own?" Diane smiled pleasantly, glancing from Roberto to Myra questioningly.

Myra answered rather quickly, "No thanks!" She laughed, "No offence, to Mr stud over here." She jerked her thumb towards Roberto, laughing awkwardly.

Roberto cleared his throat to cut through the sudden tension that filled the room, "We'd best be going… leave you guys to it…"

"Later, Sanchez clan!" Myra winked at them, turning on her heel to leave.

When they were driving in the car, Roberto let out a weary sigh.

"They made a very adorable baby, didn't they?" He asked, giving her a warm smile.

"Somewhat surprising; I was almost expecting Beth to be born with her father's monobrow!" She snickered, to herself, "I never thought I would be so happy to see a baby before."

Roberto cocked his eyebrow at her, glancing away from the steering wheel momentarily, "Do you ever think you'll reconsider your stance on relationships… or starting a family of our own?"

Myra rolled her eyes, "Not this again…"

Roberto shrugged, "All I am saying… didn't it give you some kind of… sense of purpose or… _longing_?"

Myra scowled, suddenly folding her arms across her chest defensively, "Rob…. I have made my position on this subject perfectly clear, from day one." She snapped testily, "No sweet, little baby, is going to change that."

"I told Diane this wouldn't work." He muttered beneath his breath.

She turned to look at him with a bewildered snarl, "What the hell did you just say?"

"Nothing. Forget it." He frowned back in response, "Just this stupid Idea of Diane's… she thought that when she and Rick had their baby and you saw it… well you'd be overcome with maternal instinct; that you'd change your mind instantly." He was frowning, "Clearly, even _she_ can't figure out your mental short-comings."

Myra glared at him for a few moments of silence, and then unbuckled her seatbelt, before opening the door and leaping out of the moving car.

At seventy mph, the impact of her body hitting the asphalt was significant. Had she not been impervious to physical damage, she would have had fatal injuries. It was the main thing she was thankful for about the malfunction of Rick's portal gun prototype.

Myra rolled and bounced, tearing and dirtying her clothes, before irritably climbing to her feet to look at the car, which suddenly screeched to a halt ahead of her. She scowled, watching as he pulled over and lunged out of the car.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He snapped at her, his expression wild with astonishment, "We were having a _conversation_ and you just go ahead and _leap out of a moving vehicle_ to avoid it?" He snapped, walking towards her. He threw his hands up in the air in annoyance, "What the hell is _wrong_ with you?"

Myra frowned at him, "I'm done. With the conversation. With the mention of being_ forced_ into being tied down. With _you_!" She snapped, glaring at him in frustration, "I don't care how overly dramatic you think I am being; I can't spend more time with being told what I _should_ do with my life. I _certainly_ can't see myself spending any more time with you."

Roberto looked visibly wounded by her words. He dragged a hand over his face in frustration, giving a resigned nod, "Fine… that's just fine by me." He turned to make his way back to the car but momentarily paused, to glare at her in anger, "I have no idea why I bothered to waste _years_ on someone who is so clearly deluded. Your issues run on a whole new level of crazy, which _everyone_ would be incapable of dealing with." He paused again, "Except for _Rick_."

He spat Rick's name out like it left a bad taste in his mouth, screwing his face up to emphasise his point.

"Just go." Myra snarled back at him.

Roberto threw his hands up in the air and shook his head in disbelief, before returning to his car and driving off.

Myra stuck her index fingers up as he drove away. It was only then that she considered the situation she had gotten herself into, and looked up and down the stretch of highway with a weary sigh, hobbling on a broken shoe along the side, hoping that a pay phone wasn't too far away.

She was in luck; a pay phone was only a mile away. She wearily dragged herself inside and pulled a few coins out of her pocket, swiftly dialling a number.

"Hello, could I please have Diane Sanchez' room; she's in maternity…." She paused, waiting for the response, "Thank you…" She waited for several more moments before she was patched through.

_'Hello?'_ Diane's voice chimed over the receiver.

"Hey, its Myra." Myra pinched her brow in frustration, "Could… could I talk to Rick… _please_?"

Rick had lazily portalled to her location, rather than making the drive.

He was staring at her in concern as she sat on the ground beside the phone box.

"Dare I-I ask what the hell happened to you?" Rick was frowning as he walked up beside her, "I-I-I mean y-you look like you jumped out of a moving car or something…" He paused, watching as she buried her head in her hands. "Oh…." He muttered awkwardly, "L-let's go get a drink." He said, fiddling with the portal gun's dial and opening a portal.

Myra climbed to her feet and stepped through.

She was surprised that he had chosen to the Plim Plom Tavern- it was one of the very first places they had accidentally stumbled upon, after the creation of the portal gun. She was suddenly hit by a pang of nostalgia, wondering briefly why Rick had chosen that specific location.

"It's uh…. Quiet and the drinks are great." Rick shrugged, as though he was reading her thoughts. "Come on, let's get you drunk."

A few hours passed and soon Rick and Myra were snorting drunkenly at their own jokes.

"Gee, I think t-t-the last time I got this wasted was at my bachelor party!" Rick was swaying in his seat.

"The best night ever," Myra raised her glass in a cheers motion, "But of course, tonight we celebrate; to the arrival of little Beth Sanchez, and the farewell of Roberto Agnes."

Rick clinked his beverage against hers, "I-I'll dr…ink to that!" He burped, grinning widely at her.

"Speaking of baby Beth…" Myra said, letting out a sigh, "I guess we should get you back to the hospital before Diane has an aneurysm."

Rick made a dismissive motion, "W-what's the rush?" He smirked, "W-what's Beth going to do? _Run away_?"

Myra shrugged her shoulders, "I heard babies can be a lot of work…"

Rick made another dismissive motion, "T-t-they'll be fine without me for one night…"

That seemingly became his personal motto over the passing years.

With each adventure, or prolonged absence; he had shrugged it off with a mere indifference Myra hadn't seen in the time leading up to the birth of Beth.

Soon, Beth was a young child and tensions were running high between Rick and Diane. Although Diane had made every attempt at keeping their little family together; Rick had seemed adamant on ruining all of her reparations.

Myra had tried to steer Beth clear from most of the arguing, as much as possible; making excuses to go out for ice cream, or take a little trip to Froopy Land. Anything that could distract Beth from the constant yelling and bickering between Rick and Diane. Mostly because she felt guilty.

Rick had been choosing to spend time with her, over his family life. He was spending days in her company, sometimes missing out on whole days, sometimes even weeks, with Beth and Diane.

Myra knew that Diane resented her, more than ever, for it.

It was in the early hours of the morning after Beth's eighth birthday party when he turned up at her house, completely wasted.

Of course, she was sound asleep in her bed, completely out to the world when he slithered into her bed, wrapping his bony arms around her.

Myra woke up with a start, jumping up and whirling around to punch her unknown assailant.

Rick went flying across the room, slamming against the far wall.

"What the _fuck_ was that, Morty!?" Rick snapped irritably, cradling his face where she had struck him.

Myra switched on her bedside light and stared at him with bewildered eyes, "Rick? What the _hell_ are you doing?" She leapt to her feet, concerned that she may have gone over-the-top with the punch.

After quickly checking him over, and seeing he was only sporting a bruised eye, she smacked him irritably.

"What the fuck are you climbing into my bed in the middle of the night for!?" She smacked him as he made a pathetic effort at shielding his face.

"Hey…HEY!" He snapped at her, drunkenly clambering to his feet to grasp her by the shoulders, "I-I-I missed you, i-s all." He frowned at her, "Can't I-I miss my best friend sometimes, Morty?"

"Lame." Myra frowned, stepping away from him, "Jesus, how much have you had to drink?" She asked, recoiling away from the potent alcoholic stench.

Rick glared at her, struggling to look less drunk; he made a pathetic attempt to support himself on the wall, "I-i-I've had _enough_." He said, forcing a drunken smirk.

Myra shook her head with a weary sigh, "Let's get some coffee into you." She frowned, walking out of her bedroom towards the kitchen.

Rick stumbled after her, "Gee, can…can't w-we just go pick up Pers and Squanchy a-a-and go blow something up?" Rick muttered, tripping slightly as they entered the kitchen.

"I'm going to assume you have been fighting with that lovely wife of yours again?" Myra was frowning as she grasped the pot off the percolator and poured a cup for herself and then another for Rick.

"Pfft." Rick snorted, leaning against the counter; more as a means to support himself than anything, "T-t-that's all she _wants to do_, these days." He muttered sourly, "A-all because of a simple mistake i-i-in bed."

Myra cocked her brow, curiosity getting the better of her, "I know I've made it a point to stay out of your sex life…." She frowned, sliding the mug across the bench towards him, "But dare I ask _what_ exactly this mistake could have been?"

Rick made a childish expression and traced the circle around the lip of the mug, "I-i-it was just a simple slip of the tongue."

Myra sipped her coffee and glanced at him, "ok…." She muttered plainly; still yearning to know details but not wanting to probe her drunken friend into revealing more than he was ready for.

"Hypothetically…" Rick slurred, glancing up at her from his slouched position on the counter, "Would saying _someone else's_ name, in the heat of t-t-the moment, be one of t-the _worst_ things someone could do?"

Myra spat a mouthful of coffee; spraying Rick and the counter top. He blinked at her; his face dripping with coffee.

"_Whose_ name?" Myra choked, already fearing the answer as she watched him wipe his face with his sleeve.

"I-I was half-asleep at the time…" Rick muttered, glancing down into the black liquid within his cup, "I-i-I don't think I would have _intentionally_ said your name… right?"

Myra made a pained expression, "Jesus, Rick."

Rick made a dismissive motion with his hand, straightening up and taking a lengthy gulp of the hot coffee. He downed the entire mug and shook his head as he placed it back onto the counter-top, "Y-y-yeah I fucked up… Dee is _extremely_ pissy with me."

"I am completely at a loss as to how to console you." Myra shook her head in disbelief, "We _both_ know her resentment for me; I think this will only exacerbate things…." She made a pained expression, "Jeez…" She shook her head.

Rick shrugged his shoulders, "S-seems pretty serious this time… I-I mean, she _actually_ kicked me out of the house." He wandered over to the percolator and poured another mug of coffee, "Maybe w-we will just become one of those divorce statistics after all." He shrugged his shoulders, "I should have listened to you, years ago."

Myra let outa weary sigh, setting her mug onto the countertop, "Well, you can crash here for the night… despite the ramifications that will have. The spare bed is always free…"

"What about _your_ bed?" Rick asked, staring at her intently.

Myra felt the pit fall out of her stomach, "Rick…" She looked away, feeling painfully awkward, "We know that would be the _worst_ idea you've ever had."

"I don't think it would be." Rick murmured, stepping up close behind her; she could feel the warmth of his body, even though they weren't touching.

She side-stepped past him, whirling around to meet his gaze, "There are a multitude of reasons…. You're drunk… you're emotional; simply seeking comfort…"

Rick glanced down at her, a slight smirk curved his mouth, "Y-y-you may be right…" He said simply, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, his expression softened, "I-I still wonder what life would have been like…"

Myra swallowed, looking up at him, knowing very well he was referring to what life would have been like with _her. _"Messy… unpredictable…_boring_." She murmured in response.

Rick's expression was pained, reaching out to tuck another hair behind her ear. His hand lingered, cupping her face, "y-yeah, I-I'm not a hundred percent convinced…"

Myra gulped again, quickly stepping away from him once more.

"All of those years ago… I-I said 'I love you' without thinking… and I _meant_ it." Rick muttered, his expression emotional. "What happens if I _meant_ to l-l-let slip your name because I-I'm still harbouring some kind o-of unresolved _feelings_?"

"Rick…" Myra glanced over her shoulder at him, "You are married; you have a beautiful daughter…" She was feeling suddenly hopeless; all of her own unresolved issues seemed to be resurfacing. Was it possible, that on some level, she reciprocated those 'feelings'?

"Just _one_ night…" Rick murmured, closing the space between them, "T-then we can either pretend i-it _never_ happened, or _deal_ with it…" He was suddenly holding her close, staring down at her with hungry, pleading eyes.

"It's wrong…" Myra breathed, staring hopelessly up at him.

"I don't see you stopping me." Rick smirked slightly at her, "W-we both know you could put me through the fucking wall, if you _really_ wanted to."

Myra's brow pinched together as she searched her foggy mind for reason; it was seemingly eluding her. All she knew is that all reason was suddenly evaporating- everything physical, everything Rick; felt right.

They were suddenly tearing each other's clothes off in a frenzy, scampering back towards the bedroom in a craze. It was as though, the years of suppression of resisting their animalistic urges for each other, had been unleashed instantaneously.

They were clawing at each other as Rick pushed her back onto the bed, briefly pausing to admire the sight of her naked body beneath him. He smiled devilishly, climbing down to press his mouth against the bare flesh on the nape of her neck; playfully nipping it between his teeth.

She let out a sharp breath, feeling the responding shivers of pleasure coursing throughout her body.

* * *

Although it was short-lived; Rick and Myra had _thoroughly _enjoyed themselves.

Myra laid on top of him for a brief moment, panting; before she slipped onto the bed beside him, her gaze suddenly fixated on the ceiling.

"Fuck…" she muttered, covering her face with her hands, "Holy fucking shit…" the regret of what they had just done was starting to overwhelm her suddenly clear mind.

"T-that was fucking _awesome!_" Rick was grinning; his arms behind his head as he laid sprawled out, "Fuck I-i-I think we need some kind of trophy!"

Myra was still covering her face, feeling the shame overcoming her, "I can't believe I just did that!" She let out a pained moan, dragging her hands down her face, "I can't believe _I JUST DID THAT!_"

Rick chuckled beside her, seemingly sobered up after the ordeal, "Hey, even y-you can't deny that was fucking great." He pointed a finger at her and then shrugged his shoulders, "Besides, the seal has been broken; there's no going back now."

Myra stared at him in horror, "That's not how it _works_!" she hissed at him, "You can't just cheat on your wife and then act like this is perfectly fine!"

Rick shrugged his shoulders, a grin curving his mouth, "H-hey, I'm not denying what we did wasn't completely fucked up; all I am saying is that w-what's done is done and there's no point in continuing to beat yourself up over it. Besides, I am fairly sure that my marriage i-is over either way."

Myra frowned and closed her eyes with a weary sigh, "Doesn't make me feel _less_ like a pile of trash…"

"Wasn't supposed to." Rick shrugged, "But, give me five or ten more minutes and I-I think we're totally going for a round two!"

Myra couldn't help but to smirk in response, despite herself.

* * *

**Smut Version of this chapter is on AO3!**


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